Chapter 7

The storm had finally broken, leaving the world outside scrubbed clean and dripping with the scent of pine and wet earth. Inside the cabin, the air was thick, heavy with the lingering heat of our bodies and the woodsmoke that still curled lazily from the hearth. I stirred first, the slow, heavy pull of consciousness returning to me like a tide coming in. My cheek was pressed against the broad, solid expanse of his chest, and I could feel the steady, rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat against my ear. It was a grounding sound, a anchor in the chaos of the night before. I didn’t move immediately. I just lay there, breathing him in. He smelled of cedar, sweat, and that faint, musky scent of sex that clung to skin long after the act was done. His arm was draped over my waist, his hand splayed wide across my hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessiveness that made my toes curl even in the cool morning air. I was naked, tangled in the sheets that had been kicked down to the foot of the bed, my body a map of his touch. There were marks on my