The cabin was wrapped in dusk, the fireplace casting golden light across the room. Wood crackled, rain pattered on the windows, and the scent of cedar and wine hung in the air like memory.
Harper sat cross-legged on the rug, a blanket draped around her shoulders, watching as Eli poured another glass. June lounged behind her on the couch, one bare leg hanging over the edge, the hem of her oversized sweater brushing her thighs.
“You look cold,” June said, voice low, teasing. “Come here.”
Harper didn’t hesitate. She moved to the couch, sliding between June’s legs and letting herself be pulled back against her. June’s hands found her waist, warm and slow, fingers spreading across skin like they had all the time in the world.
Eli sat on the floor across from them, wine in one hand, eyes dark. “You two never invite me anymore,” he said with a smile, but the hunger behind it wasn’t a joke.
June grinned. “Then join us.”
Harper’s breath caught as Eli leaned in, his hand brushing her ankle, then her calf, then farther — slow, testing, sure. June’s lips found her neck just as Eli kissed the inside of her knee.
There was no rush.
That was the thing about the three of them — they knew how to wait. How to build. How to turn wanting into something that burned low and hot and deep.
June whispered something into Harper’s ear — something that made her tremble — while Eli’s hand slid higher beneath the blanket, his touch all heat and promise.
Clothes didn’t fall away all at once. They slipped, one by one, each piece peeled away by a different set of hands. Skin met skin in slow waves. Breath, sighs, quiet laughs between moans — it all melted into the firelight.
The world outside vanished.
And in the heart of the storm, they undressed each other full of want.