by Mac Flynn
With a little help from some melted snow and the open, crackling fire I had a decent batch of coffee to go with our donut meal. We each took a cushion of the short couch and munched to our heart's content. The glow of the fire gave enough light so we could see each other, but dark shadows ruled the corners of the large room. The quiet was a little oppressive, so I struck up a conversation.
"You said you were taking this stuff for a conference. What was it going to be about?" I asked him.
"I was to meet with some investors who wanted to buy shares in my company," he told me.
I paused in my dinner and raised an eyebrow at him. "You own a company?"
He smiled and nodded. "Yes, quite a big one. I deal in pastries mostly. These donuts were made in one of my factories."
My mouth dropped open and a little donut dribbled out. "You're the Nick Frost? The owner of Frost Frostings?"
"Guilty as charged," he admitted.
"Aren't you worth a billion dollars?"
"Two, but who's counting?"
"A bunch of accountants and your investors," I quipped.
Frost chuckled. "I stand corrected, but now it's your turn. I've told you my deepest, darkest shame of being a billionaire, but I don't know anything about you except your name. Any boyfriend waiting for you at the end of the mountain trail?"
I snorted and shook my head. "No, not even a hamster."
"What do you do for a living?"
I shrugged. "I'm an office worker at a department store. I pretty much push papers all day, go home, rinse and repeat."
"Not the glamorous life you dream about?" he teased.
"Only if you call glamorous when somebody comes in complaining about their paycheck being two cents off and threatening to sic the unions on us," I quipped.
"It sounds like your job has its ups and downs," he returned.
"More downs than ups," I admitted. I shook myself and leaned back against the couch. A bitter smile slipped onto my lips. "I must be boring you with my middle-class problems."
He shook his head. "Not at all. Only a few years ago I was eating ramen and buying anything that had a coupon for fifty-percent off. Then Lady Luck smiled on me and I hit it big with a little cake shop I started with a friend."
"Got any of that luck to spare?" I teased.
He chuckled. "It's more than just luck. It's perseverance. You have to want something badly enough to earn it." I noticed his eyes swept over my when he said that.
I blushed and turned my gaze to the fire. "So what about you and the end of that mountain trail? The Mrs. Frosting Queen didn't want to come up here with you?"
"She would if I had one, but I'm still cooking for myself," he told me.
"So no wife?"
"No wife. Not even a dog."
I looked back to him and noticed his gaze was focused on into the fire. There was melancholy in the depths of those beautiful eyes. "The ladies must be falling all over you," I mused.
He pursed his lips and nodded. "Yes. They fall down hoping they'll trip me into matrimony, but I've seen enough vipers to know a snake when it slithers up to me." He shook himself and turned to me with a smile. "But here I am moaning about my lot in life when I've got a lot to be grateful for."
I shrugged and sipped on my coffee. "Loneliness knows no tax bracket. Besides, I'm sure you'll find some girl not out to get your riches, you just have to look past the gold-diggers."
He paused an his eyes swept over me with that careful, penetrating gaze of his. I could see how he could command enough respect to build a frosting empire. "I might just follow your advice."
"Of course you should. It's my advice, and as you know I am never wrong," I quipped to cover up my nervousness.
He chuckled. "That's a conversation always best left for another time. Right now I think we should get to bed."
"Flip you for the bed and couch?" I teased.
He set his coffee mug on a small table in front of the couch and shook his head. "No. As gallant as I should be with the bed I think we should sleep together."
My eyes bulged out of my head. "S-sleep together?"
"Yes, for the body heat. That fire won't stay lit all night and this cabin will probably feel colder than outside. We should gather our body heat to avoid much loss, as they say in business," he explained.
"Oh! The body heat! Right! I know that!" I twittered. I juggled my coffee mug between my shaking hands and finally set it on the coffee table. "So, um, we go to bed now?"
"Unless you want to keep talking about our love lives," he teased.
"Right. Bed it is."
I jumped to my feet and looked down at myself. I still wore my jeans and shirt. "I think I'll just stay in these clothes."
"If you want. I'm sure our combined body heat and some dusted blankets will let you wear anything you want. Or nothing," he mused.
"I-I'm fine. Who gets the wall?"
"I will," he offered.
Frost stood and grabbed a few blankets that lay over the couch. He stepped outside and gave them a good shake to dust them. The blankets were spread over the bed with its single mattress and wood frame. Frost removed his shoes and coat, and climbed under the blankets.
I stood off to the side and smiled at how he looked tucked under so many layers. "How's the water?" I teased.
"Warm. Come on in," he returned.
I took off my shoes and socks, and slipped under the covers. The bed was too narrow to avoid touching him, but I tried my best to lean over the side without falling off. "Very comfortable," I agreed as I clung to the wooden side boards.
"You'll fall out that way," he scolded me.
"I'm fine-hey!" He'd wrapped his arms around me and pulled my back against his chest. "Let go! I was fine!"
"You were not fine and you're as stiff as a board. Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," he assured me.
I squirmed in his arms. "That's what all the crazed murderers say right before they try to ax the heroine!" I protested.
"Yes, but I'm the hero, remember? The murderer doesn't save their intended victim from a snow-bound car," he reminded me.
I stopped my struggles, but glared at him over my shoulder. "You could at least not hold me."
He grinned back. "But I'm comfortable."
"Your arms are going to go numb," I warned him.
"You're not as heavy as you think you are."
"Maybe you're stronger than you think."
"Maybe you need someone around to tell you you're beautiful more often than you tell yourself you're ugly," he scolded me.
I turned my face away from him and stuck my lips out in a pout. "I tell myself that because it's true."
He caught my chin between two fingers and turned my head so I faced him again. His eyes sparkled with mischief and something more, something deeper and warmer. "It's not true, and I'm going to prove it to you." He leaned down and caught my lips in a passion-filled kiss. We meshed our lips together in a soft duel and I turned around to face him so I could deepen the kiss. He pulled me closer and my breasts pushed against his hard chest.
After a few moments I broke the kiss and gasped for breath. "You. . .you do this a lot to girls you just met?" I teased him.
He smiled down at me and brushed a wisp of my hair from my face. "Only the beautiful ones."
He captured my lips in another searing kiss. My body ached with the tortured need I felt for him. I groaned and leaned against him. His hand slid down my clothed body and slipped beneath my shirt. He toyed with my bra before his fingers dipped beneath the flimsy cloth. He massaged my breast slowly, achingly slowly. I pushed my mound into his palm, encouraging him to feel me.
Nick pulled away from me and pulled my shirt over my head. His deft hands unclasped my bra and my upper half was naked to him. I covered my folds of fat with my hands and looked away, too embarrassed by my imperfect body to show it to him.
"Not that. Not with me," he cooed.
&nbs
p; He pulled my hands away and lay me on my back while he hovered above me. He leaned down and captured one of my buds in his mouth. His warm lips suckled me. My body ignited with sensual heat. It pooled between my legs and left me with a feeling such aching need that I clawed at his shirt. He tossed that aside for me and I reveled in the feel of his warm flesh in my hands.
One of his hands slid down and unbuttoned my pants. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband and through the coarse hair to the folds between my legs. I jumped when he grazed my sensitive nub. Sensual pleasure swept over my body and left me with chills. I clutched his shoulders and moaned as he rubbed his finger against my nub, teasing me with promises of what he could give to me. My hips thrust in time with his finger and the ache inside me grew worse. I needed him inside me, one with me.
"Please," I whimpered.
He lifted his head from my breast and I could see he gasped for breath. His eyes were ablaze with a lustful fire, but he strained to contain himself. His voice was hoarse with his need. "Please what?" he asked me.
"Please take me."
That was the final key to unlock our demanding desire for one another. I don't remember how our clothes flew off, but in a moment we were both naked beneath the covers. He draped his body over mine and his member teased my hot, wet opening. I wrapped my thick thighs around his waist and squirmed. I wanted, no, needed for him to take me, to make me his.
He raised himself on his arms and his eyes swept over me. He laid me bare with his heated gaze, and I shivered beneath such heat. "So beautiful," he whispered.
I blushed as he lowered himself atop me and slowly penetrated my body. He pushed himself deep inside me, and my warm walls captured him in their loving embrace. He paused and shuddered. "So. . .tight. . ." he gasped.
I brushed his hair through my fingers and rubbed our cheeks together. "So right," I moaned into his ear.
He pulled out and penetrated me, deeper this time. His strokes slid against my sensitive nerves, and each slide was a taste of lustful heaven. My body trembled and begged for more. More of him, more of our lovemaking, more of us. He pushed faster and our hips slid against each other, helped by our sweat-soaked bodies. I arched my back and moaned as he pressed again and again into me, each thrust more desperate and demanding than the one before it. His grunts filled the air as sweet music that made my body tremble with lust. We needed to be one, to know each other as only lovers could know one another.
"Oh god. Oh god. . ." I murmured as each push from my lover sent thrills through my body. He quickened his speed. Each penetrating stroke demanded I yield to him, to our joined, lustful desire. The ache was too much. I needed satisfaction, and I needed him with me. "Yes! More! Oh god, more!"
He grunted and thrust faster. Our slow love-making turned to a demanding rut as we each tried to make the other come with us. Feral thrust after feral thrust made my body quake with lust-filled tremors of a pleasure I couldn't imagine but longed to know. I ached for and dreaded the fulfillment of his lustful passions. I couldn't stop him in his wild thrusts, nor did I want to. Each penetration brought me closer to sweet, sensual fulfillment. All I could do was pet his hair and murmur into his ear words of encouragement.
"Yes. That's it. Oh god, yes. Faster. Oh my god yes!" I leaned my head back and reveled in the tremors that wracked my body with their sensual vibrations. "Take me! Yes! Yes!"
My body exploded into sweet, lustful orgasm. Waves crashed over my flesh and left me filled with pure, sensual pleasure. He thrust wildly into me, heightening my bliss until I knew nothing but him inside me stroking me hard and fast. I thrashed and screamed his name to the secluded cabin. He was my god and I his servant, and oh god did the worship feel good.
He finally spilled into me and fell atop me. I wheezed at the feel of his heavy, limp weight as it oozed over me. He wrapped his arms around me, slid onto his side and took me with him so I was pressed against his warm chest.
I snuggled against him and smiled. "Not bad," I teased.
He chuckled. "Not bad at all."
My smile faltered as I thought about tomorrow and a few tears sprang into my eyes. "So what happens now?" I wondered.
"Now we wait out the storm."
"No, I meant with us."
He pulled me to half an arm's length and his twinkling eyes smiled down on me. "Have you ever thought about dating a frosting king?"
I snorted and wiped away my few annoying tears. "Not really, but I'm willing to give it a chance."
And that was the start of a long and beautiful relationship that ended with me obtaining the title 'queen of frosting.'
For all books by Mac Flynn visit her author's page or visit Mac Flynn's website.
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