eight
Jade
Ninety minutes until reality crashes back in. Ninety minutes until whatever this is between us gets tested by the outside world. Ninety minutes left in our snow globe.
I watch him move around the cabin, gathering my things. Aspen follows him, then me, then back to him, as if she's trying to herd us together.
"Rhett." His name on my lips stops him in his tracks. He turns, and the raw emotion in his eyes makes my breath catch.
"We should get you ready," he says, but he doesn't move.
I cross to him slowly, mindful of my still-aching ribs. "I am ready."
"Jade..." There's warning in his voice, but underneath it, need.
I reach up, brushing my fingers along his jawline, feeling the scratch of his beard against my skin. "Ninety minutes is a long time," I whisper.
His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. "Not long enough."
"Then let's not waste it."
His restraint—the control he's been clinging to since we met—fractures visibly. His hands come up to frame my face, and then his mouth is on mine, hungry and desperate. This isn't the cautious kiss from earlier. This is a man who's been starving for years finally allowed to feast.
I wind my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his as much as my injuries allow. He tastes like coffee and possibility, and I want more—more of his hands, more of his mouth, more of him.
"Your shoulder," he murmurs against my lips, even as his fingers slide into my hair.
"I'll manage," I breathe, nipping at his lower lip.
He pulls back slightly, eyes darkened with desire but still cautious. "We should stop."
"Why?" I challenge, my fingers tracing the strong column of his neck.
"Because once I start, I don't think I'll be able to."
Heat pools low in my belly at his words, at the intensity in his gaze. "Then don't stop."
Something breaks loose in him. With a growl that vibrates through my body, he lifts me—mindful of my injuries but with undeniable strength—and carries me toward the bedroom. Aspen whines once, then settles on her bed near the fire as Rhett kicks the door closed behind us.
The bedroom is sparse but warm, dominated by a large bed covered with a handmade quilt. He sets me down beside it, his hands steady on my waist.
"Are you sure?" he asks, searching my face.
In answer, I grab the hem of my borrowed shirt—his shirt—and pull it over my head in one fluid motion, leaving me in just my underwear. His sharp intake of breath is gratifying.
"Very sure," I say, watching his eyes darken as they travel over me.
"God, you're beautiful." His voice is rough, reverent. His hand, when it reaches out to trace the curve of my collarbone, trembles slightly.
"Your turn," I whisper.
In one fluid motion, he pulls his shirt over his head, and I nearly gasp aloud.
This man is magnificent—all muscle and sinew crafted by years in the mountains, not a gym.
His broad shoulders taper to a narrow waist, his chest dusted with dark hair that runs in a tantalizing trail down his stomach.
Scars mark his skin—a roadmap of survival etched across his torso—making him even more breathtaking.
I step closer, placing my palms against the solid wall of his chest, feeling his heartbeat thundering beneath my hands. "I want to see all of you," I say, my eyes meeting his.
Uncertainty flashes across his face. I know what he's thinking about—his prosthetic.
"All of you," I repeat firmly, my fingers trailing down the ridges of his abdomen.
A growl rumbles through his chest as he captures my hands, bringing them to his lips. "You first," he counters, and the primal hunger in his eyes makes me shiver.
His hands are gentle as they explore me, tracing the curves of my waist, skimming over the bruises with feather-light touches. When his thumbs brush the undersides of my breasts, I gasp. He guides me back until my legs hit the edge of the bed, then eases me down onto the quilt.
"I know it’s wrong but…I've thought about this since I pulled you from that snow," he admits, trailing kisses along my jawline. "About what you'd feel like beneath me."
"Show me," I urge, arching up against him.
His mouth captures mine again as his hand cups my breast, thumb circling my nipple until it peaks against his palm. I moan into his kiss, my body already on fire from his touch.
"Rhett," I plead, threading my fingers through his hair. "I need more."
"Tell me," he commands softly, his breath hot against my skin. "Tell me exactly what you need."
The words tumble out, unfiltered and raw. "I need your mouth on me. I need you inside me. I need you to make me forget everything but this."
A groan rumbles through his chest. His kisses trail lower, across my ribs, my stomach, to the edge of my underwear. His eyes meet mine, asking silent permission. I nod, lifting my hips to help as he slides the fabric down my legs.
Then his mouth is there, right where I need him most, and I cry out at the first touch of his tongue. His hands hold my thighs apart as he tastes me, one finger sliding inside to curl against that perfect spot.
"God, you taste amazing," he murmurs against me. "So sweet. So delicious."
I can't form words, can only moan as he adds another finger, stretching me deliciously as his tongue circles my clit. The pressure builds quickly, too quickly—it's been so long, and he's too good at this.
"Rhett, I'm going to—"
"Let go," he urges. "I want to feel you come on my tongue."
His words push me over the edge. I shatter with his name on my lips, my body arching off the bed as pleasure crashes through me in waves. I don’t feel pain any more, only pleasure. He works me through it, gentling his touch as I come down, trembling.
Before I can recover, he's moving up my body, claiming my mouth in a kiss that lets me taste myself on his lips. I reach for his jeans, impatient now.
"Off," I demand, fumbling with the button. "Now."
He chuckles, the sound deep and satisfied. "Yes, ma'am."
Clothes disappear in a frantic blur of hands and mouths.
When he's finally naked before me, I can't help but stare in wonder.
His cock is magnificent—thick and long, flushed dark with need, curving proudly toward his stomach.
The sight of him makes my mouth water, my core clench with anticipation.
This man is pure raw power—a force of nature barely restrained.
But then my gaze drops lower, to where flesh meets metal on his left leg. His body tenses, the vulnerability in his eyes breaking my heart.
I sit up, sliding to the edge of the bed. I reach out, my fingers hovering just above the junction. "Can I?"
He nods tightly, jaw clenched as if preparing for rejection.
I trace the edge gently, feeling the contrast between warm skin and cool prosthetic. Then I lean forward and press a kiss to the scarred skin just above it.
He inhales sharply. "Jade..."
I look up at him, my hand wrapping around his impressive length, feeling him pulse against my palm. "I want all of you, Rhett Sullivan. Every part."
Something feral flashes in his eyes—a man who's denied himself for too long finally given permission to take what he wants.
In one smooth motion, he has me on my back, his powerful body covering mine as he settles between my thighs.
I can feel him, hot and heavy against me, his control visibly fraying at the edges.
The head of his cock The stretch as he pushes inside me is exquisite, bordering on too much. I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders, leaving half-moon indentations in his skin.
"Okay?" he asks, his voice strained, body trembling with the effort of holding back.
"More than okay," I breathe. "Don't stop."
He begins to fuck me, and it's clear he's fighting a war with himself—wanting to be gentle with my injured body but desperate to claim me completely.
His powerful thighs flex as he thrusts, each movement precise yet barely controlled.
Years of solitude have left him starved for touch, and now he's feasting.
His hand slides between us, finding my clit with unerring accuracy, and I'm climbing again, faster this time. The contrast of his touch—those calloused mountain-man fingers so delicate against my most sensitive spot—undoes me completely.
"You feel incredible," he groans, his pace increasing, control slipping. "So tight. So perfect around me. Been so long... can't..."
"Harder," I urge, wrapping my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. "Please, Rhett."
Something snaps in him. His movements become fiercer, more primal, driving deeper, hitting a spot that makes me cry out with each thrust. Yet even in this unleashed state, there's care—his weight carefully distributed to avoid my injuries, his free hand cradling my head.
Our eyes lock, the rest of the world long gone. Words pour from me—filthy, desperate pleas for more, for faster, for harder.
"Come for me again," he commands, his voice a ragged growl that sends shivers down my spine. "I need to feel you come around my cock."
His words send me hurtling over the edge. I come with a keening cry, clenching around him, wave after wave of pleasure washing through me.
Rhett follows moments later, his rhythm faltering as he groans my name against my neck, his body shuddering above mine. With a loud groan he empties himself inside of me, hot and full to the brim with his seed.
Finally, when every last drop is spent, he presses a tender kiss to my temple and withdraws, leaving a wet puddle beneath us.
I curl into him, my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat return to normal. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, and I've never felt so content, so perfectly at peace.
Then, reality intrudes. Soon the snowcat will arrive. Soon we'll have to leave this cabin, this bubble where nothing exists but us.
"What happens now?" I ask, voicing the question that hangs between us.
His arm tightens around me. "I don't know," he admits. "This isn't something I expected."
"Me neither." I prop myself up to look at him. "But I want to find out where it goes."
Uncertainty clouds his eyes. "Jade, our lives are completely different. You're young, you've got your whole career ahead of you. I'm—"
"If you say 'too old' or 'damaged goods,' I might have to hurt you," I warn, placing my finger over his lips. "And I'm already injured, so that would be inconvenient."
A reluctant smile tugs at his mouth. He kisses my finger. "It won't be easy."
"Nothing worth having ever is." I lean down to kiss him softly. "And you, Mountain Man, are definitely worth having."
The radio in the other room crackles to life, announcing the snowcat's approach. Our time is up.