Page 15 of Curvy Cabin Fever
The bed smells like him. Clean, masculine, something dark yet inviting.
Then the thunder cracks, loud enough to shake the window. I jolt, my breath catching in my throat. Before I can think, an arm snakes around my waist, pulling me back against a solid, warm chest. His body molds against mine, hard muscle pressing into soft curves. His heat is everywhere, his scent wrapping around me—something forbidden and male and intoxicating.
His breath brushes my neck, a slow exhale that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Shhh,” Damien murmurs, his lips grazing my ear. “I’ve got you.”
My pulse hammers, but I don’t pull away. I should—I barely know him. But right now, in the middle of this storm, in a strange place, I feel safe.
And that terrifies me more than anything.
His body presses against mine, his heartbeat strong and steady against my back. I curl into him, exhaling slowly, my breath shaky. Before I can stop myself, I’m tilting my head ever so slightly to look at him, surprised when I see him staring back at me in the darkness.
“You’re something else, Aria, you know that?” he rasps, his hand pulling me closer. “I feel like fate brought you here tonight for me.” He shakes his head, almost like he can’t believe the words either. “I don’t let people in; I haven’t for a long time. But then you show up—and I feel like I’ve known you longer than a few damn hours.”
My heart slams in my chest at his words, a dizziness washing over me at his proximity. “Like a pizza?” I mumble, my cheeks coloring as he chuckles, a soft roll of breath against my cheek.
“My favorite pizza. With extra toppings.” He slides his hand across my stomach, and I instinctively grab it, not wanting him to feel my flabby skin. Not when he’s so toned and perfect. I’ve never been with a man so…god-like. It makes me feel hideous, and I hate it.
I turn on my back, which probably isn’t a good idea, as he’s now staring down at me, resting on one elbow. His hair falls into his eyes, and I swoon.
I swallow hard, my grip on his fingers increasing. I should say something. But the words won’t come.
Damien stills, his grip unwavering. And even in the dark, I see it—the frown, the disapproving line of his mouth.
“Aria.” His voice is low and rough, a blade of emotion cutting into me. “Why won’t you let me touch you?”
I suck in a sharp breath, my fingers tightening around his. I should answer. I should push him away.
But I can’t.
I exhale shakily. Because now he’s above me, watching me intently.
Something inside me cracks at the sight of him resting on one elbow, his hair falling into his eyes.
Holy hell.
Hewants to touchme?!
“It’s not that I?—”
His eyebrows lift, eyes scanning mine as he waits.
“—don’t want you to touch me, it’s just…”
I’m fat and you’re not. There, say it.
“You’re insecure,” Damien says slowly, shaking his head. “Is that it?”
I can’t breathe.
My cheeks throb with humiliation, my eyes stinging with tears as I turn away, refusing to let him see me cry. I’ve been heretoo many times, and tonight, in bed with this god-like creature, I won’t break.
Because he’s right—Iaminsecure. Even if Damien wasn’t so beautiful, I don’t like anyone touching my stomach. I’m a lights-off kinda girl, and that won’t change.
“Aria.” Damien’s voice is a low and husky, like he’s holding himself back. His fingers trail slowly over my cheek, then lower—his thumb brushing my bottom lip, the way a man does when he’s about to ruin you.
He tilts my chin up, eyes searching mine. “You are fucking beautiful.” His voice is gravelly and hot. “So fucking perfect for me.”
