By the time Eli emerges from the basement, he’s rolled up the sleeves of his checked flannel shirt, revealing his strong, muscled arms.

On the other hand, I’ve shed the blanket because it got unbearably hot after I polished off a couple of glasses of fancy Chianti by the fire.

Sitting on the couch where Eli slept, I can smell his musky, masculine scent, and I yearn for him.

“Did you manage to fix whatever was broken?” I ask, admiring the way he looks as the flame projects a dream-like, golden glow on one side of him while casting the rest of him in the shadows.

“Of course.” Eli shoots me a crooked, smug grin full of pride as he shuts the basement door behind him. “There was this duct section that was blocked. Luckily, it was somewhere I could access easily from the basement so I could seal it with tape.”

I nod even though I don’t really follow his explanation. Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the fact that I know jack-all about heaters.

Holding up a half-empty wine glass, I ask him, “Sounds like you deserve a drink after all that hard work.”

Eli chuckles as he approaches the couch. “How much have you had to drink, young lady?”

“Hey, I’m not eighteen anymore, okay? I’m of legal age now,” I remind him. In the back of my mind, I realize I’m bringing up the past, and that should make me nervous, but it doesn’t.

This is great. For the first time since Eli burst into this cabin with a rifle pointed straight at me, I’m not nervous. I feel completely at ease.

As Eli takes his seat next to me, I feel the cushion dip under his weight and realize just what a big, imposing man he is. Something black stains his shirt and his exposed forearms, no doubt the side effect of his work downstairs.

Seriously, every man should learn some handyman skills. There’s something undeniably, irresistibly sexy about a man who knows what to do with his hands . . .

Before I know it, I’m holding Eli’s hand and staring at it like I’ve never seen a human hand in my life. “Did you cut yourself?”

Eli looks at the inch-long red streak on the back of his hand. “Oh, yeah, I guess I did.”

“You should be more careful.” I grab a corner of my blanket, dampen it with water from a glass resting on the coffee table, and wipe Eli’s cut with it.

“Thank you.” He looks awkward although he doesn’t pull his hand away. Maybe a glass of wine will help him relax.

“I know what else can make you feel better.” I raise an eyebrow as I pour more wine into the glass and offer it to Eli.

Eli takes the glass and gives me a solemn look. “I think you’ve had enough to drink, Sophia.”

“That’s why you should drink it,” I say, pouting. “We can’t pour the wine back into the bottle. That would be a crime. This is fancy wine.”

“Okay, okay.” He chuckles as he gulps down the glass in two seconds, flat.

I can’t help but smile. I’ve missed him for so long, and now he’s sitting right next to me. We’re even sharing a bottle like old times.

I mean, we’re stuck together in a small cabin during a sudden snow storm. What are the odds? Maybe we’re supposed to spend this time together. Perhaps this is an opportunity for us to get some closure.

Or possibly, we can . . . I don’t know. I’ve had filthy fantasies about Eli forever. In the past seven years, if I’m being really honest, no other man has even come close to him.

Is it possible that . . . that it’s time to see him for what he really is and bring him down from the pedestal I put him on? Maybe I need to get him out of my system.

If I were a cartoon character, there would be a lightbulb turning on right above my head. Everything makes sense now.

Again, we’re stuck together in a small cabin, during a sudden snow storm. What else are we supposed to do? What else are two adults, who are clearly attracted to each other, supposed to do?

It doesn’t have to be serious. I don’t need to trust Eli to get into bed with him. We can keep this casual.

Like we both agreed earlier, we are older . . . Not everything has to be life-and-death. There’s no need to get dramatic.

Back when I was younger, there was no chance of me not taking our relationship seriously. I was eighteen, and I thought I’d found my soulmate—how ridiculous does that sound now?

But, it was probably because half the kids in school called me a slut. Every morning was a struggle to get myself out of bed and into class. School was a depressing prison I couldn’t escape.

That must’ve affected the way I felt about myself, the way I felt about everything, the way I approached my first sexual partner ever.

But, I’m older now. I can see everything through grown-up lens. I know now that the girls who spread those rumors in school were just jealous and insecure. Now, I can have sex for the fun of it.

I draw both my legs up onto the couch and sit cross-legged, facing Eli. I look into his dark eyes and give him a smile.

When he returns my smile, without thinking twice, I lean forward and reach for his hair. I’ve wanted to run my fingers through it all day—it just looks so soft and silky.

I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to tug at his hair while he’s on top of me, fucking me. I bite my lower lip as I let my imagination run wild.

Gazing at Eli from underneath my lashes, I run my hand down his head, caressing the uneven surface of his ear and the curve of his cheek.

The black scruff along his jawline feels rough under my finger pads. I wonder how it would feel grazing against my sensitive inner thighs.

“Sophia . . .” Eli says softly. His dark eyes are dilated, but there’s concern there, too. “Maybe we should go back to sleep. You’ve had too much to drink.”

“Sure,” I say as my fingers trace the hard muscles of his broad shoulder and his chest. “We can go to sleep after.”

“After what?” he asks in a gentle voice that’s nevertheless growing hoarse with desire.

“After . . .” I let my voice hang in the electric air between us. Maybe I don’t need to answer with my words.

Curling my hand around the back of his neck, I lean forward, lifting my ass off the couch. I close my eyes as I graze my lips against his.

He wants this; I know he wants this. It’s easy to see.

Still, my heart pulses rapidly, nervously.

With Eli, I want him to take control. I want him to overwhelm me with his desire. I want him to let go of his inhibitions and take me the way only he can.

I hope I haven’t messed things up so badly that he doesn’t want to do those things to me again. I’ve dreamed of him so many times, and I’ll regret it if I walk away without reliving our intimate moments together.

To my relief, Eli kisses me back—gently, at first. Tentatively.

Is he still worried about how much I’ve had to drink?

Still, it doesn’t take much coaxing until Eli moves closer, wanting more. He nibbles on my bottom lip and sighs, his breathing growing heavier. With his finger, he traces my wet lips.

“Sophia . . .” he whispers. “There’s nothing I want more than to kiss you right now. But, maybe this is not the right time . . .”

“It’s just a kiss, Eli,” I whisper back.

I want more than “just a kiss,” of course. But, there’s no need to say that out loud.

There’s a vortex of desire swirling around us, pulling us closer like a pair of magnets. It’ll take over, sooner or later. And, even without the alcohol in our systems, it’s already stronger than either one of us.

“Sophia, I . . .” Eli drags a deep breath into his lungs and lets out a big exhale, his breath falling hot on my lips, making me want him even more.

“I just want to kiss you some more, Eli,” I say softly. I bite my bottom lip and gaze at him.

Eli’s sharp gaze studies my facial expression. I can almost pinpoint the moment when he loses the battle against himself. Something dangerous glints in his dark eyes.

And then, illuminated by the flickering flame from the fireplace, a crooked smile spreads across his handsome face.

He doesn’t have to say a word. I can feel the change in the way he touches me.

Eli grabs my arm and yanks me to him. He traps my face in his hands and crushes his lips against mine.

This time, I don’t hesitate either. I kiss him back with more force than I knew I was capable of.

My head spins as Eli plunders my mouth. Something hot kindles in my center, and I know it’s not because of the wine or the fireplace.

He cups the back of my head and tangles his fist in my hair, just like he used to do before he fucked me. Is that what he’s about to do now?

We both fight for air, panting and holding on desperately to each other like we’re each other’s lifeline.

Eli’s tongue slips along mine as he thrusts his body against mine, pinning me down on the couch. I can feel his dick growing hard in response to this violently passionate kiss.

I let out a small whimper as he bites my lip. I throw my head back against the couch, pressing my heaving chest against him.

Before Eli gets any chance to remind me about how much I’ve had to drink, I grind myself against his impressive length. I run my fingers through his hair and tug him down, urging him to kiss me harder, deeper.

“Fuck, Sophia,” Eli groans into my mouth as he presses his hard shaft against me.

This reminds me of how we used to rub ourselves raw through our clothes, back when we were younger and sneaking around to make out with each other.

But, even though we’ve kissed before, more times than I can remember, this kiss feels different. Unlike any others we’ve ever shared. With just his lips, Eli takes complete ownership of me.

It’ll be disastrous when he inevitably lets me go again, a small, sensible voice in my head says.

But, I no longer have any control of my own body. This force pulling us together is more powerful and demanding than I can resist.

And, to be honest, I don’t want to resist it. I don’t want it to stop. I want to give in to this sheer madness.

Eli’s kiss makes me dizzy. He may not know it, but he’s more intoxicating than any wine or liquor. My whole body tingles with lust and anticipation. My belly is throbbing, my core clenching in need.

I pull away as we both breathe frantically. Maintaining eye contact, I pull my shirt over my head.

Eli stares at me, his dark eyes a mixture of desire and doubt. “Sophia, are you sure—“

“Shut up, Eli,” I cut him off as I unhook my bra and toss it aside on the floor.

Eli breaks eye contact, making me smile in the darkness. I can see the moment his self-control crumbles and it’s beautiful. Sexy as hell.

Eli’s gaze flicks to my tits. But, he doesn’t waste time just looking.

He doesn’t need more encouragement. A large hand cups my tits as he draws a ragged breath as if the wind has been knocked out of him. His fingers tease over my pink, sensitive, hardened nipples.

I let out a moan, knowing it’s just the thing to spur him on. It’s just the two of us in a secluded cabin in the middle of a snow storm.

I don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing us. So, I let go of my self-consciousness and let Eli know just how desperate he makes me with my gasps and moans.

My body starts to shudder as Eli takes my nipple into his mouth and takes a lick. Sensations shoot straight down my spine and into my core, making me tighten with need.

He traps my nipple between his teeth and my breath catches. I thrust my pelvis forward in an attempt to make contact with Eli’s hot, hard body.

But, I reach nothing but air. As I mewl with disappointment, Eli lets out a low chuckle and runs his hands up my thighs.

“Patience, princess . . .” he says, caressing my skin with his warm breath.

He parts my legs as he drags his mouth down my body. He hooks his fingers in the waist of my pants and pulls them down, leaving me writhing in my panties.

Then, knowing how much I need him, he positions himself over the crotch of my panties, letting me feel his breath and the light graze of his hot lips.

“Eli, please . . .” I beg as I grab his shoulder and tug him back up. I need to feel his thick, hard cock. I need to know just how much he needs me. “Stop teasing me.”

“Okay, okay.” Eli’s smirk hovers over my face, his forearms resting on both sides of my head. “I forget what a demanding brat you can be.”

“I need you,” I plead breathlessly, grinding my pelvis against the erection tenting the front of his jeans.

“You won’t believe how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he says with sincerity in his eyes.

I don’t know how to stop myself from falling for him, from trusting him completely, when he looks at me like that. But, who cares? That sounds like a job for future, sober me to work on in the morning.

I give Eli a smile. I’ve wanted him right on top of me for a long time, too. “It’s been way too long.”

“Yeah. How did I ever survive without you?” Eli puts his hand on my cheek and strokes my skin with his thumb.

“I have no idea.” I giggle.

“You’re hot, princess.”

“Thank you,” I answer, giggling again.

“No, I mean, you’re burning up. Your skin is too hot,” he says.

“What?” I study Eli’s face and realize his eyes have lost their wildness. In its place, I see tenderness and concern—not bad things at all . . . But, under the circumstances . . . “What do you mean?”

“I mean . . .” Eli sighs and pushes himself up.

“Wait, what are you doing?” I ask, grabbing his strong biceps.

“Princess,” Eli says, looking deep into my eyes, “you’re . . . in no condition to be doing this.”

“I am.”

“You’ve drunk too much.” Eli shakes his head.

“I haven’t,” I insist.

“Yes, you have.” He gives me a wry smile. “You have no idea how much I want this, but I don’t want you to regret this in the morning and lock yourself in the bedroom again.”

“I won’t. I promise you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize I’m acting like a child. I may be lying underneath him, wearing only my panties, but this is not sexy. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

Eli reaches down to grab the blanket at the foot of the couch and pulls it up over me, covering my nakedness. In a low, soothing voice, he says, “And I promise you, I’ll still be here in the morning when you wake up. If you haven’t changed your mind by then, we can do whatever you want. I promise.”

I want to answer back. I want to tell him he’s wrong.

At the same time, the blanket does feel nice and cozy. It’s lonely as soon as Eli climbs down and sits down on the floor, though. But, before I can protest, he touches my head and strokes my hair.

“Go to sleep now, princess,” he whispers softly, his hand moving slowly and gently over my head, making me yawn. “I’ll be here in the morning.”