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Bella replaced the static-riddled stations with her own voice, laughing at some of the songs he requested. Some of them were so old, but she knew them all—never disappointing him. She felt especially warm tucked against his side as he drove. He was glad that he hadn't broken down and bought a new truck, the kind that had a stationary console, making her current position impossible.

Her fingers didn't seem to be able to stay still on the drive up to his cabin. On occasion, they'd wander over his knee, teasing him. Sometimes, they'd settle along the waistband of his jeans. Twice, she'd jumped up from his side, grabbed her camera, and asked him to pull over. He complied without complaint, loving the look of concentration on her face. She knelt on the seat and lean out the window to capture whatever caught her eye, making him hard at the sight of her ass.

The second time she did it, his fingers took liberties and skimmed along the back of her thigh as she framed up a shot from his window. When he cupped her breast in his calloused palm, his groan and teeth marked her shoulder. After that, she hadn't asked to stop again, anticipation making her antsy.

He surprised her when they went through a hidden entrance that led to a rough road to his cabin. She knelt on the seat again, looking out the back window. "You can't even see it. I thought you were going to hit a wall of rock or something.

"I wanted it to remain hidden."

"What are you hiding from, Edward?"

He looked away, because she looked too damn tempting. "No one in particular. I just like my solitude."

"Your own fortress of solitude on top of a mountain. All right, Superman, where's this cabin?"

He rolled his eyes at the name and gestured toward the road. "You won't see it just yet." A few minutes later, he pointed toward the minimally lit cabin. Her mouth fell open and closed, her eyes landing on him.

"I was expecting a tiny little thing."

"It's not huge."

She didn't touch that one, but he could tell she wanted to. "No, it's not a mansion or anything but it's bigger than I imagined. You said you liked simple."

"It has all the amenities, including satellite television and internet. Everything I need."

"I love it," she said, and scooted toward the passenger door. She rolled down the window, his partially down already, and caught a scent. Slowly, she turned to face him. "Any particular reason you're growing marijuana?"

"It's for medicinal purposes." He left it at that, and thankfully, so did Bella.

They pulled up a minute later, and she jumped out quickly when the first drops of rain started to fall. All day, the threat lay in the darkening sky, and finally, it came down. He watched from behind the wheel as she danced in the dimming light of the sun.

"I haven't been able to do this in years," she called out, her hands running over her face. She tilted her head back to catch more of the rain in her hair. She mesmerized him. The thin cover up and dress she wore plastered to her skin. Other than those barriers, she wore no bra, and he caught a hint of lace along her ass.

He left his truck and reached out for her, numbly wondering if it was all some dream. One he'd awaken from in the cruel darkness that often turned dreams to nightmares.

Her arms stretched up over her head, laughter on her lips. The hem of her dress caught on her wet thighs midway up. It tempted him to kneel at her feet and pay careful attention to the part of her he wanted to explore with his tongue again.

She stopped after another moment, whirled around, and saw his hand and arm stretched out between them. Her next move was tentative, unsure, as her fingers slid slowly over his. She whispered his name when he enclosed her small hand in his large one. Their differences became blatantly obvious; his skin two shades darker, hers ten times softer. Despite the rain that poured over them, she was incredibly warm in his arms.

Her mouth found his first, but his hands held her closer and in place to take more of his tongue. She relished in the bite of his teeth, her shuddering breath a clear indication of that. Her hands remained on all the safe places, his shoulders, and her fingers played with his hair at the nape of his neck. Their next kiss lost some of the finesse, but none of the passion. He was hungry for her, wanted to climb inside to warm all the cold parts of him.

His hands slid down her body, lingering on her ass before settling on the back of her thighs. She cried out softly when he lifted her up against him, her legs automatically wrapping around his hips. One of her ballet shoes slipped off into the mud, but neither of them seemed to care. He held her close, his mouth never far from hers as he climbed the stairs and onto the porch. If she hadn't started to shiver, he would've taken her there. Instead, he led her inside knowing they wouldn't make it to his bed; hell, the likelihood of making it past the door seemed impossible.

It didn't matter where they landed; neither of them would leave unscathed.

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