Snowbound

by Deborah Cooke

  “You’re wicked!”

  “I’m trying,” Spencer admitted, stealing a slow kiss. He whispered in her ear, still teasing her. “I have this fantasy of hearing you scream when you come.”

  Olivia’s cheeks were brilliant red and she wriggled in a very interesting way. “I shouldn’t.”

  “Why not? Who’s going to hear?”

  “You will.”

  “And I’ll like it a lot.”

  She laughed. “So, this night is about fantasies then?”

  “It seems a good time to make a few come true. Was that one of yours?”

  Her smile turned mischievous. “Tying you down and having my way with you?” She nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “So, now it’s my turn. I want to hear you scream.”

  “You are wicked.”

  “You started it.”

  “True.” Olivia took a deep breath. “All right. I won’t hold back.” She put out her hand for body wash and Spencer squirted some into her hand. She lathered it up between her palms, then spread it over his chest, working down to his erection. “Oh! Look what I found,” she whispered, then began to caress him, working the lather over the length of him and cupping his balls in her hands.

  Spencer leaned his head back and enjoyed. “Now who’s wicked?” he asked, hearing the strain in his voice.

  She laughed, a throaty sound that tempted him to kiss her again. Her tongue slid between his teeth, sending a surge of desire through him, and he crushed her against the tile, kissing her deeply.

  It was a few moments before he lifted his head and he ran a fingertip over her swollen lips. “Turn around. I haven’t washed your back yet.”

  “And the water’s starting to get cold,” Olivia agreed, shivering as she turned. It was another great view, her butt sweetly curved and her waist so small that he couldn’t keep from locking his hands around her. He lifted her to her toes and kissed the side of her neck, catching his breath when she rubbed her butt against him. “We should do it this way,” she said to his surprise, her voice breathless.

  “On your knees or against the wall?”

  “I’m too short. I think it’ll have to be over a chair.”

  “Your wish is my command,” Spencer teased and she smiled, tipping her head back for a kiss.

  “You should have told me that you take requests.”

  “Maybe I’m just at your service.”

  “Then why am I the one with the blindfold?”

  “Maybe it helps.”

  She considered that. “Maybe it does. Maybe I can be a little wilder if I don’t have to look you in the eye.”

  “I can work with that.” He held her close, cupping one breast in his hand, then sliding the other hand down the length of her. She parted her legs to give him access and he was thrilled to feel how slick and wet she was. He loved how she moaned into his mouth, then shivered as the water got even colder.

  “Time to finish up,” he said.

  “Tease,” she accused.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get what you deserve.”

  She laughed again, that wonderful husky laugh, and Spencer got another handful of body wash. He pushed her hair aside and saw the tattoo for the first time. It was on the back of her left shoulder and still a little pink, as if it was new.

  “What’s this?” He ran a fingertip around its perimeter. “Is it new?” It was a bee in flight, approaching an open rose. It was just black, like a line drawing, except for the tiny red heart on the bee.

  It was good work and Spencer admired it.

  “I got it in New York,” Olivia admitted.

  Spencer nodded, knowing that she’d gone to Manhattan for a weekend with Lexi and Reyna recently. “To celebrate finishing your degree?”

  She nodded, but she hesitated first, as if that wasn’t the real reason.

  “It’s beautiful. Who was the artist?”

  “Her name is Chynna.”

  Spencer whistled through his teeth. “A legend! Good for you. Why not go for the best for your first?”

  “I kind of won it,” Olivia admitted, as if embarrassed by it. “I didn’t know who she was until later, when I looked her up.”

  He smiled down at her as he rinsed the lather from her body. He could have run his hands over her all night long, but the water was definitely getting chilly. He finished washing himself then turned off the water.

  “You must be feeling lucky then,” he murmured as he lifted her out of the shower. He wrapped her immediately in a huge bath towel and she nestled into it like a contented cat.

  She smiled. “Actually, I am.”

  “Let me see if I can make you feel even more lucky.”

  “You just want to hear me scream.”

  “I do. And I want to eat you, too.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “That first taste was delicious.”

  Olivia didn’t seem to know what to say. She reached to remove the blindfold, but he caught her hand in his.

  “Not yet,” he said. “You have to earn it.”

  “By screaming.”

  “Exactly.” Spencer dried off and scooped her into his arms to carry her to the bed. “Reach up, way up, and grab the bed frame,” he said. “You don’t get to move.”

  “Or you’ll tie me down?”

  “Would you rather I did?”

  She thought about it for a minute then shook her head. “No. I like the idea of capitulation.”

  Spencer grinned, then trailed a fingertip up the inside of her ankle. “Then spread your legs wide and don’t move them until you come.”

  Olivia did what he instructed and pointed her toes. Her legs had the ideal amount of curve, to his thinking, and the towel was coming unwrapped around her waist. Her hair was a dark tangle beneath her and her lips were very red. Her skin was a bit pink from the shower and she smelled like body wash—and arousal.

  Spencer took a good long look. It was his turn to see and he wasn’t going to miss one bit of it. He eased his hand up her thigh and then felt the slick heat of her, liking that she was ready for him again.

  And he was more than ready for a good taste.

  Desire might just be an impulse to encourage the perpetuation of the species, but Liv had never realized it could be such a powerful force.

  Or one that wasn’t easily satisfied.

  She apparently didn’t even have to see Spencer to be excited by him. Being in his cabin, being in his presence, being in his shower and his bed, was evidently plenty. And even though they’d done it once, his kisses still turned her knees to butter. Clearly, it would take more than one or two rounds to satisfy her desire for him.

  Fortunately, the urge seemed to be mutual.

  And he didn’t seem to be too angry about the trick she’d played on him.

  At least not angry enough to hold it against her. Oh no, he seemed to be determined to change her mind about leaving, and Liv was enjoying his persuasiveness. Wearing the blindfold seemed to heighten her other senses and she felt his every touch as if it were magnified.

  Plus, she could abandon her inhibitions when she didn’t have to see his reaction.

  No one had eaten Liv in a long time. It always made her feel self-conscious, possibly because she’d known that her former partners didn’t enjoy it. It had been a reciprocal offer, if not an obligation, and that awareness had diminished Liv’s enjoyment.

  But Spencer seemed to love it. He took his time, easing his weight over her, sliding his hands up her thighs. She felt his lips on the inside of her knee first, a warm sweet kiss that made her shiver with delight, then his mouth worked a burning path higher and higher. She couldn’t decide if the blindfold helped or hindered her reaction. She wasn’t entirely certain what he’d do next, but on the other hand, that raised her awareness and anticipation. She felt each touch more keenly and that seemed to maximize its impact.

  Liv would have liked to have studied her body’s reactions, maybe compared and contrasted with the blindfold and without, but Spencer eased higher a
nd she forgot everything except his touch.

  She felt his breath against the inside of her thighs. She felt his day’s growth on her skin and shivered, expectant, impatient. He took his time, easing closer, teasing her with how slowly he could move. His hands cupped her butt, his forearms under her thighs, his shoulders on top of them. She felt his breath first and opened her legs wide, burning with need. He chuckled and that tickled, making her groan with impatience.

  Finally, she felt his tongue on her labia. The slow, warm slide across her clitoris was heavenly. Luxurious. She felt pampered and indulged. Appreciated. Feminine. A whole list of things that she seldom felt and it was wonderful.

  Liv moaned as she’d never moaned before. She felt Spencer grip her butt and make a little growl of satisfaction, then his tongue slid over her with deliberation. Liv felt dizzy. When he began to tease her, she wasn’t sure how she would last. He moved slowly though, building her up, then easing away, taking his time—as if he was enjoying it as much as she was. That realization nearly finished Liv.

  “More,” she complained, barely recognizing her own voice. “Faster.”

  “Patience is a virtue,” Spencer said, teasing her with his fingertip. She knew he was looking at her, watching her reaction, so she slid her tongue over her own lips and arched her back. “No, I want to hear complete capitulation,” he said, his voice low. Liv moaned and he chuckled, then closed his mouth over her again, demanding her reaction with his touch.

  She knew what he was waiting for and she wished she had the ability to hold out. She tried to make the pleasure last, to keep herself from reaching her release too quickly, but Spencer seemed determined to drive her wild. Liv gasped. She writhed. She moaned and she felt her hips buck.

  Then he touched her with his teeth and she screamed as the pleasure surged through her, screamed as she never had before. He didn’t release her but kept teasing her, ensuring that she came and came and came.

  She was out of breath when she tugged off the blindfold and threw it aside, then reached for him. His eyes flashed with blue fire, as he moved up the length of her, then he was inside her, hard and thick. His weight pressed her into the mattress and Liv wrapped herself around him, digging her fingers into his shoulders, drawing him closer and holding him tight. He rubbed against her, making her gasp in pleasure again, then his smile flashed. Their gazes locked and held and buried himself inside her, driving her back to the summit again. Liv felt the scream building again and knew that Spencer was waiting for it. She held back as long as she could, not wanting him to be cheated, but then the tumult overwhelmed her. She locked around him even as he buried himself deeply inside her, and screamed again as Spencer went taut.

  He exhaled and she felt his heart racing beneath her hand. He lifted his head and kissed the corner of her mouth, a gesture of such tenderness that Liv’s own heart squeezed tightly. “Cocoa?” he murmured and she couldn’t keep herself from laughing.

  Chapter Three

  Spencer heated milk and melted chocolate, trying to figure out the best way to change Olivia’s thinking, and not have everything go straight to hell. Why did she only want one night? He knew her dad had died when she was young, and her mom had raised her and Brandon on her own, but he couldn’t imagine that was the issue.

  Maybe she only wanted to jump his bones.

  Maybe the rest of him wasn’t as interesting. She was brilliant, after all, and in possession of two graduate degrees. He’d barely finished high school.

  But Spencer was stubborn and Olivia was in his cabin with no means of departure.

  It was time for him to be persuasive.

  The cocoa would help.

  He’d tugged on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt but was barefoot in his kitchen. It wasn’t a huge kitchen, not like the one at the lodge, but he had pretty much everything he needed close at hand.

  Olivia was bundled up in a bathrobe she’d claimed from the back of the bathroom door. Lexi had given it to Spencer a few years before but he never wore it. No one had ever worn it, actually, but he kept it on the hook in the bathroom so Lexi would think her gift was being used. He was more likely to pull on a pair of sweatpants than wear a bathrobe.

  It looked good on Olivia, though, all fluffy and white, a little bit too big. Once again, he thought she looked like a contented cat or a kitten, all snuggled up and cute as could be. She’d put her hair back in a ponytail again and had borrowed a pair of his thick work socks. She was sitting at the counter, watching him. “Don’t you use the powdered mix?” she asked.

  “Bite your tongue,” Spencer chided. “You need chocolate to make good cocoa.”

  “Is that how your mom made it?”

  He shook his head. “She’s a package-of-mix kind of woman, all the way.”

  Olivia smiled. “Mine, too.”

  “I learned to do this in France.”

  “At cooking school?”

  “One of them.” He swirled the chocolate into the warm milk, sparing her a smile. “I should give fair warning that once you’ve had it this way, you can’t go back.”

  “Maybe you can’t. I don’t think so much about food.”

  “Good. I’ll have a chance to change your mind.”

  “Just about cocoa?”

  “Maybe about a lot of things.” Their gazes locked and held for a moment and Spencer’s heart stopped. Then Olivia caught her breath and looked down, her color rising.

  So, she did feel guilty. Good.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Let’s do a blind taste test. I’ve got one of those packages here someplace.”

  “More use for the blindfold?”

  “Why not?” He grinned at her. “I like how you let go when you’re wearing it.”

  “You just want to have your way with me. Again.”

  “I thought that was your plan,” he teased.

  She glanced toward the clock on the wall, which was all the reminder Spencer needed. Ninety minutes left. He had to get busy.

  Alternatively, he could hope that Lexi was late, which wasn’t out of the question. He considered the falling snow and wondered if it would even be possible for Lexi to drive back. How far had she gone?

  “Okay, I have the blindfold,” Olivia said.

  “Put it on again.”

  She got back onto the stool, then put on the blindfold and tightened the strap. “Go ahead. Overwhelm me with better cocoa.”

  “I will. I’m going to use milk for both of them, just to level the playing field.”

  “My mom uses water with the mix.”

  “Right, so it will taste better this way, too.” Spencer had warmed up two mugs because he’d planned to use half of the milk for his own cocoa. Instead, he made two kinds for Olivia. He poured milk over the powder and stirred it, then mixed some of the melted chocolate into the remaining warm milk. He poured the concoction into the other mug, sprinkled cocoa on the surface of both, then slid them across the counter to her. “Okay, this is the part where you prove me wrong.”

  Olivia smiled and reached out.

  Spencer saw an accident just before it happened. “Hang on,” he said, then moved around the counter to stand behind her. He wrapped his hands around hers, then fitted them around one mug, the one with the cocoa made with melted chocolate. She lifted her mug, wrapping her hands around its warmth, and he dropped his hands to her waist. She took a little sip to check the temperature. She gasped a little, then she took a bigger sip, and put down the mug. She ran her tongue over her lips, savoring it. “Okay. That’s good,” she said. “But it might be the milk.”

  “It might be,” Spencer admitted. He guided her hands to the other mug and watched her hands close around it.

  She sipped, considering, then sipped again. She put down the second mug. “I stand corrected. I want the first one back. It’s amazing.” She reached for the blindfold, but Spencer caught her hands in his. “Why don’t you leave it on for a while?”

  “And put myself at your mercy?”

  �
��Why not?”

  She licked her lips as he watched and he knew the moment she capitulated. “Why not?” she whispered, her voice husky.

  “You know where to come anytime you want another.”

  She smiled and something about her manner seemed a bit cooler to Spencer. “It would be a long way from England just for a cup of cocoa.” She sipped again. “Although it is good.”

  “Too bad I didn’t get one this way,” he said. “Give me a taste?” She offered the mug to him but Spencer guided it down to the counter. “Not like that.”

  “But how...?”

  He bent and brushed his lips across hers. He felt her shiver in response and heard her little exhalation of pleasure. “Like this,” he murmured against her mouth and she turned immediately on the stool, her hands rising to his shoulders as she stretched toward him. Spencer kissed her deeply and thoroughly, loving how she met him more than halfway. That had to be progress on his part—she didn’t seem very frosty to him in this moment. When he lifted his head, she smiled and slid her fingers into her hair.

  “Now I should thank you for the cocoa,” she whispered, which was fine by Spencer.

  His hands were under the bathrobe by the time they broke their kiss and the smell of Olivia’s arousal, warm and sweet, was leading his thoughts in a predictable direction. He eased his hand between her thighs and caressed her so that she gasped. He licked it from his fingertips, ensuring that she knew what he was doing. “Sweet as honey,” he whispered and she smiled.

  “You’re insatiable.”

  “I thought that was you.”

  She shook her head. “I’m the Ice Queen, remember?”

  “And I like how your reservations are melting.”

  Olivia straightened then and Spencer felt a barrier slide between them. “Not really. I have that flight tomorrow night. What time is it? How soon will Lexi be back?”

  Spencer frowned. “You really don’t have plans to come back to Honey Hill?”

  “Like I said, there isn’t a lot of post-grad work in genetics to be found out in the country.”