Page 14 of Snowed In with the Wrong Cowboy
But he turns back slowly, his gaze darkening as he comes at me again. His next kiss is wild and reckless and I don’t even know what I’m doing. Everything feels upside down. The snow, the wind, the heat of his mouth, the fact that we’re even out here like this.
I break the kiss, shoving him back again.
“This—” I point between us, my chest heaving. “Thiscan’t happen.”
I spin on my heel and storm back into the cabin, slamming the door behind me and leaning against the wall, trying to catch my breath.
What the hell was that?
I hear his boots on the porch, heavy footsteps getting closer.
Any second he'll walk through this door and we'll have to face what just happened. We'll have to talk about it or ignore it or figure out what the hell happens now.
I touch my mouth, feeling the ghost of his kiss. Tasting him still.
This is bad. This is so bad.
The door handle turns and he steps inside.
Our eyes meet.
And I know—we both know—that everything just changed.
There's no going back from this.
4
CALLUM
The door clicks shut behind me. Piper is backed against the wall like a cornered animal.
Fuck.Fuck.This was supposed to be simple. A jab at my sister, that ice-queen who cut me out like I was yesterday's trash. Mess with her best friend, make her squirm, watch the fallout from a distance. Revenge wrapped in a pretty package.
But staring at Piper now, I feel the plan crumbling.
I cross the room in two strides, my hand slamming against the wall beside her head, caging her in. She flinches, but doesn't duck away.
Good girl.
“Callum,” she says, breathing heavy.
I don't give her time to say anything more. My other hand fists the front of her coat, yanking her flush against me, and I crash my mouth down on hers, her lips parting on a gasp that I swallow whole.
My body pins hers to the wall, hips grinding forward, letting her feel how fucking hard she makes me.
She fights me. Of course she does. Her hands shove at my chest, palms flat against the wet wool of my coat.
I growl into her mouth. “I know you want this. Unless...fuck, unless you like the fight. That it? You get off on pushing me away just so I drag you back?”
Her eyes flash and she shoves me harder, but her body arches into mine even as her mouth twists in a snarl. Then she grabs my face and kisses me again, desperate and shaking like she needs it just as much as she hates it.
But just as quickly, she pulls back, her hands pressed against my chest like she’s trying to hold herself together, or hold me back.
“You're an asshole. I hate you.”
Hate me? Oh, she can hate me.
I abandon the wall to seize the front of her coat, tearing down the zipper and yanking the heavy wool apart. I tug it down her arms and it pools at her feet.
