Snowed In Read online

Page 5

Except he’d gone beneath the heavy blankets. He grabbed her by the hips, his big hands shifting her whole body until they were diagonal on the bed. She reached both arms out to steady herself. He pushed her legs apart, spreading her thighs with his broad shoulders as he settled against the mattress. She couldn’t see what he did beneath the blankets, only feel as he spread open her sex and rubbed her clit. She writhed in his hands, her pussy squeezing with want.

  He huffed a breath against her, then the heat of his mouth covered her sex and she forgot how to think. An excited calm took over as he gave her what she needed, his fingers sliding into her slick heat, taking her to a place where only pleasure existed. She dug her heels into the bed and pressed against him, taking all he gave and begging for more, so much more. She started to whimper as her orgasm built, wanting so badly to come but wanting this to last, to go on like this forever. He reached deeper inside of her, his fingers stroking, his lips pulling at her clit until her legs quivered. His hand inside her held her in place, his mouth devouring her sex until there was nothing to do but scream and fall into the pleasure he delivered.

  Like waves crashing against the shore, the sensations kept coming, building. She broke again, going limp and boneless, barely able to breathe as he emerged from beneath the blankets. He licked his glistening lips, his green eyes dark with want, as if he could ravish her all over again.

  She swallowed hard, her mouth dry from panting. He sat up and slid his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Wait.” She reached for him, but he stood, all gloriously naked and hard, thick and long. She blinked. Really long.

  “See something you want, princess?” His wicked grin returned.

  “I want . . .” She swallowed again, not sure how he’d react if she asked him to lie down so she could ride him to another orgasm.

  “My cock,” he filled in the blank for her.

  She wrinkled her nose and smiled because when he said it like that it sounded devilish and dirty and perfect.

  His deliciously warm chuckle followed him as he sauntered across the room. “To fuck or suck?”

  She flinched, because that didn’t sound sexy at all. “I can’t do that.”

  “I think you need coffee because you’re not making sense.” He pulled open his dresser drawer, then slid on a pair of worn jeans that fit him like skin. He pulled on a sweatshirt, then grabbed a pair of thick socks and joined her on the bed. “What is it you can’t do?”

  “Never mind.” She cleared her throat and pulled the blankets to cover herself. What had she been thinking? Of course he expected her to reciprocate. She should have stopped him, because the last thing she wanted to do was gag and wind up puking. No thank you.

  “Hey, put whatever you had planned on pause, okay?” He reached for her, but she leaned away. “The first time we’re together isn’t going to be a morning quickie. Trust me here, you need me to get the fire going again and make a path to the shed so I can turn the generator on and you can have coffee and a hot shower. It’s still coming down and I need to bring some wood in while I can still walk through it.”

  “Through what?” She spied her T-shirt on the floor and wished she’d thought to put it back on last night.

  “Sugar, look outside. It’s snowing.” He motioned toward the giant windows.

  Giant white windows. What on earth? She lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the brightness of the winter wonderland that had transpired overnight. Snowflakes fell fat and heavy, swirling like a shaken snow globe.

  “It’s only a few feet right now, but if it keeps up it will be a chore to get to the shed. And no generator means no hot water.”

  Water was the least of her worries. Snow probably meant the after-brunch hike would be canceled and she’d need to throw something together quick to entertain the guests. She’d have to look up what else might be available. “How long until I can use the Internet?”

  “The satellites get spotty during storms, so I doubt it will work. Cell phones too.” He pulled open a drawer, then tossed a white T-shirt on the bed. He followed it up with sweatpants, socks, and a red and black flannel.

  “Wait, you mean we’re snowed in? Trapped up here? For how long?” Her voice rose with each word. She wondered if he had a seventy-two-hour emergency kit like she did at home, or if they’d die of starvation before anyone realized they were trapped.

  Scott sat on the bed and squeezed her foot through the blanket. “Hey, it’s going to be fine. This happens a couple times each year. It’s not a big deal.”

  It was a big deal. Huge. “But we have the brunch this morning, I have to come up with an alternative for the hike because of this weather, and I’m driving home today.”

  “Maybe it’s not as bad in town. But if the highway’s closed you’ll have to wait for it to reopen.” He took back his hand and looked out the windows.

  “How long does that take?” Her pulse dashed ahead, keeping pace with the to-do list she’d half written in her head.

  “Depends on when the snow stops.” He rose from the bed, leaving her feeling like she’d missed part of the conversation or said something wrong. “I’ll start the fire. Stay in bed until it warms up, put on some clothes if you need to get up.”

  He turned and left, the connection she’d felt with him severed. She didn’t know when or how, but he’d turned it off like a light switch. She shook her head, wishing she had popped out of bed this morning instead of dragging this part out. She didn’t do morning-afters, didn’t know what he’d wanted to hear. It wasn’t like this could be anything more. His life was here, and hers was there, and there wasn’t a way to bring the cities any closer.

  She pushed her hands through her messy hair, trying to settle it into some sort of order. Hopefully the snow had been lighter in town and she could get back to her regularly scheduled life. Brunch with the rest of the wedding guests, a relaxing few hours at the spa, then the drive home where she could finish the audio book on increasing productivity she’d started on the way here. Tonight she’d sleep in her own bed, and what happened at the cabin would stay at the cabin.

  5

  Scott stacked logs on the grate, threading in kindling to catch on the embers below. He couldn’t believe he’d let the fire burn down. Maintaining the fire was second nature to him, but because his night with Marissa had stretched so late, he’d overslept and almost frozen them both. He blew gently on the glowing embers, coaxing a tiny flame to weave through the kindling and curl into the bark. He tended the fire until it began to hiss and pop as the sap ignited and crackled.

  He pulled the wood smoke into his lungs, trying to replace Marissa’s soft jasmine scent, but it stayed with him like a tattoo. He had her on his hands and his body and his lips. He wanted to ask her to stay, but she wanted to leave as soon as possible. But he wasn’t ready for her to go. He wanted more, to figure out why she was such an intriguing mix of timid rules and sensual curiosity in bed, to learn where she wanted her life to go from here.

  She wanted to move on down the road. He got that much. He shook his head, but he doubted he could clear it with her still here. He wanted her to stay and she couldn’t wait to run from him. He pushed up from the hearth and stood, brushing the wood and ash from his jeans.

  “Scott?” She stood in his bedroom doorway wearing his flannel with the sleeves rolled up, his wool socks slouching on her bare legs. “What did I say?”

  “Nothing, but if you’re not going to wear pants you should stay in bed.” Across the room their gazes snapped together so perfectly he didn’t even want to blink. He’d thought last night had changed something, but that must be only in his head.

  “I can tell something’s going on. Are you disappointed about something?”

  “I suppose.” He had no right to be. She’d been honest about going back as soon as she could. He just didn’t want her to. He crossed to the entry and sat on the bench to pull on his boots.

  “Because I didn’t want to . . .” She worried her bottom lip and looked everyw
here but at him.

  “What are you talking about?”

  She huffed a breath and stared at the ceiling.

  His gut clenched because if she started to cry he had no idea what to do. Did he hold her and stay with her or let her have some space?

  Finally she met his gaze and nodded matter-of-factly. She stretched out her arms and shrugged. “Blow jobs make me puke. There, I said it. I gag and I throw up and it’s just a huge mess. And I’ve seen your cock. There is no way I won’t choke on that.”

  He couldn’t help the smile, and when she sighed like she’d lifted the weight of the world off her shoulders he had to laugh.

  “I’m not making it up. I can choke just brushing my teeth.” She placed her hands on her hips and his shirt splayed open. She hadn’t bothered with the top half of the buttons.

  “Well, that sucks.” Damn. He was an idiot. “Okay, poor choice of words. Do you have some kind of special toothbrush to keep that from happening?”

  Her eyes widened like he’d started speaking Greek. “I use a kid’s toothbrush.”

  “Do you have it with you?” He pulled on his coat, but decided against the hat and gloves. He wouldn’t be out long.

  “Yeah, always. I don’t want you to be upset thinking I don’t want to. I really can’t.”

  He stomped his heel into his boot. “You honestly think that would matter? You must really think highly of me.”

  “It seemed to matter. I couldn’t reciprocate, and you shut down. The two go together.”

  “That’s not what happened. I thought when you saw the snow, you’d want you to stay for a while. But you want to get out of here as fast as humanly possible.”

  “You know I don’t live here.”

  “But I do.” He held her stare until she dropped hers to the floor.

  “Last night you said you wanted to move past that so things wouldn’t be awkward between us, and now we’ve . . .” She circled her hands in the air like that explained everything. “Now things are more awkward than before.”

  No, it was the same old awkward of him wanting her and her not being available. He shook his head. “I need coffee before I can talk about this. And that isn’t going to happen if I don’t get the generator started.”

  The ringing of the phone halted their conversation. Her big blue eyes widened as she looked at him. “Our cell phones are working.”

  “Landline.” He answered the handset by the door.

  “Oh, good, you guys are okay!” Tanya spoke so loud he had to hold the phone away from his ear.

  “Yeah, Tanya, we’re fine.” He tilted his head toward his bedroom and covered the receiver. “There’s a phone on my nightstand.” Marissa picked up the extension seconds later and he hung up, letting the girls talk about whatever.

  He needed to focus on what he could control. He pushed open the front door, dry snow swirling in the wind. It had already blanketed the first two steps in a fine powder, nothing he couldn’t kick aside with his boot.

  As he worked he tried to figure out what Marissa had that he couldn’t shake. So honest and vulnerable one minute, and then strong and capable the next. It fascinated him, always had. He wanted to shield her from the harm, keep her safe with him and away from people who took advantage of her. A heart that sincere gave him hope that maybe, if she’d only listen to it, they might have a chance for more than a memory.

  “Isn’t the snow beautiful?” Tanya’s enthusiasm came through the line. “The photographer is stuck here too, so we’re going to do another session with her in the snow.”

  “There’s snow down there?” She’d been hoping maybe they’d been hit by a freak storm and if they only drove down the mountain it would clear.

  “Snow and ice. They’ve closed the highway in both directions, which means everyone gets to stay an extra day.”

  Wasn’t that just fantastic. “When are they opening the highway?”

  “I think it’s either too early to tell, or the news is saving that bit for the noon edition. Christa feels awful about getting you trapped up there at Scott’s place. I let her go ahead and feel guilty because she shouldn’t have talked you out of your hotel room. She’s entertaining as all hell, but she can be such a pain in the ass.”

  “She didn’t talk me out of it, she locked me out.” A strange buzzing sound started up outside. Marissa swung the coiled phone cord back and forth. She couldn’t remember when she’d last seen a phone like this. A sitcom maybe.

  “How are you and Scott getting along?”

  “Fine. We got in late and then woke up to this mess.” Best to gloss right on over the naked parts. Tanya would never believe it anyway. She could barely believe it herself.

  “I’ve always thought he had a little crush on you. Every few months he asks how you’re doing, what you’re up to. He’s a nice guy, hon. You could do worse—hell, you have.”

  “Gee, thanks.” The light in Scott’s bathroom flickered on and the alarm clock next to the phone began to blink. The front door opened and closed, Scott shuffling around in the kitchen. “Don’t waste your time playing matchmaker. I live in Portland, remember?”

  “You don’t have to live in the same town as the person you’re sleeping with. Matt and I didn’t when he first got transferred. Long-distance relationships can work if you work at them.”

  “I don’t have to worry about that because I’m never going to have one.” Some people had that kind of trust, but Chris had taken that with him when he left. He’d done his hooking up when he was out of town for games or camps or meetings. Maybe there were even trips specifically for sex, for all the things she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do.

  “Dating would be easier for you here. In the city the guys in flannel are hipsters who only drink organic coffee. The men here are more that strong, rugged thing you go for.”

  Scott certainly was. But she didn’t think he had any intention of moving. “There are plenty of guys in Portland. You always said that. And there, I have a job and an apartment I need to get back to.”

  “I know. I’m still paying my half of the rent until the lease is up. Have you decided if you’re moving or getting a roommate?”

  She didn’t want to do either. She’d interviewed a few potential roommates since Tanya moved out here in the summer, but they all came with issues she didn’t want to deal with. Like the one with a snake that ate live rats, or the nocturnal musician. She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Did the news say when they expected the storm to be over?”

  “Wednesday night it’s going to turn into freezing rain. They were calling for a storm, but nothing like this. Though the resort manager said snow has hit the area in October before.”

  “Are you sure you want to live inside this snow globe?”

  “Our mortgage payment is barely more than my half of the rent in the city. Plus, my job here is so much better. I’m not a cog in the corporate wheel anymore; I actually get to do more than shuffle paperwork. Speaking of which, I’m going to list an event coordinator position when we get back from skiing.”

  “I doubt I’m qualified. I’ve only been an assistant for three years. I need at least five until I start searching for the next step.”

  “You always said if I found the perfect job I should let you know. Besides you’ve never lived by a time line before. You skipped your senior year of high school and got your degree in three years. This is the same thing. Plus, I can talk you up, and brag on how you saved our rehearsal dinner. I have your résumé on my computer from the last time I helped you update it, so I’ll slip it to the hiring manager and I won’t even have to be bothered with posting the job. You’d be doing me a favor.”

  “I think marriage has made you loopy. Why would I want to live in a place where I could get trapped by snow?”

  “Because I’m here and you love me. And I hoped Scott might help me out with the convincing, but apparently not. Did you meet Matt’s friend Eddie? They play basketball together at the gym. It’s much easier for m
e to set you up on dates when we’re in the same town.”

  She cringed. Tanya had the worst track record ever with setups. “Right now I’m going to focus on work and figure out my living situation. I don’t want to deal with dating.”

  “I don’t know how you do it. I couldn’t go a month without sex, let alone years.”

  She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I have sex. Just not all the time like you.”

  “Please, I lived with you for more than two years. You never get laid. That’s why you’re wound so tight. I’d tell you to go have a fling, but you are a monogamy girl. Which is why you need to be dating so you can find a boyfriend and have sex and relax and not have to be so perfect all the time.”

  “Your logic is skewed by a fresh case of marital bliss, which I’m going to let you get back to because I need to ask Scott when he can take me back to the lodge.”

  “Did you not hear me about the snow and the closed highway? That’s why I called as soon as I found out where you were. I don’t think you’re leaving there for a few days at least. It’s supposed to snow for a few more days, and then the cleanup focuses on the main roads and works its way out. You might not get down the mountain for a week.”

  “I have to be at work on Tuesday.” She closed her eyes and her heart went heavy. If she couldn’t leave she’d have to talk to Scott about what happened. And he made her feel all the things she didn’t want to deal with, all the things that had clouded her judgment before.

  “Good thing you have so much vacation time banked. I don’t think you’ll make it back this week, let alone in to work. But don’t worry, Scott’s the person I call for help, and you already have him. If it makes you feel better I can sneak carbs into Christa’s breakfast as penance for keeping you from your beloved job.”

  “I think getting stuck with Jerry is punishment enough. Did she tell you if he’s still—”

  “The two-pump chump? Apparently he can double that now. She thinks that’s a good thing, poor kid.”

  Marissa let herself laugh at Christa’s love life, Tanya’s snark, and her own ridiculous predicament. She’d find a way out of this mess, she always did. After all, once you’ve been stood up at the altar in front of everyone you’ve ever known, you learned to play the hand you are dealt.