Snowbound

by Deborah Cooke

  “Don’t you have a generator?”

  He gave her a look.

  “You seem to always be prepared for everything. That’s why I wondered.”

  Spencer grimaced. “I took it into Wolfe Lodge before Christmas when we had a power failure, and never brought it back.”

  “And Lexi didn’t come back.” It wasn’t really a question. Liv knew she hadn’t.

  “I called and told her not to,” Spencer admitted, raising a finger before Liv could protest. “Think about it. Even Mindy isn’t going to make it down my drive when it’s hip-deep in snow. It was smarter for Lexi to stay put.”

  Liv nodded reluctant understanding. Of course, he was protective of Lexi. She eyed him, wondering what he thought of the situation. She couldn’t help feeling that she’d overstayed her welcome, especially as she’d invited herself, and she felt a little bit trapped.

  “I’ll miss my flight.”

  “It might be cancelled anyway. And you won’t be able to sell your car for much if it’s damaged,” he reminded her and she forced a smile.

  “Sorry.” Liv decided to be blunt. “I wasn’t planning to stay, and you can’t have been planning to have a guest. I feel like I’m imposing.”

  His eyes were very bright blue, so bright that Liv couldn’t look away. He seemed very large and masculine all of a sudden, almost filling the room, and that reminded her of everything they’d done. She felt a familiar tingle down low and her mouth went dry. That had to be because he was so serious and watching her so carefully. “Do you want to leave?” he asked softly.

  “That was the plan.”

  “Because now that you’ve had your taste, you’re ready to move on?” He didn’t seem to believe that, but she did think he wanted her to say it out loud.

  She eyed him. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “What if you’re not?” Spencer asked and took a step closer. “What if I’m glad you’re here?”

  Liv’s heart skipped. “You just want to change my mind.”

  “Guilty as charged.” His lazy smile made her pulse skip as did the intent in his eyes. He brushed his lips across hers and Liv caught her breath. He smelled like toothpaste and soap, and the scent of fresh coffee clung to his clothes.

  She tried to continue the conversation, as if she was unaffected by his proximity and his touch. “Are you glad about the snow?”

  Spencer’s smile broadened and she felt all shivery for a different reason. “I’m not the one who thinks one taste should be enough. I’m more than willing to try to convince you to give us more of a chance.”

  Liv swallowed. “It’s not rational to hope for more.”

  “Much less for the next time to be even better?”

  “Exactly.” The word fell from her lips in a rush.

  He surveyed her, then met her gaze again, his own eyes simmering. “Then you’d rather I didn’t touch you?”

  Liv couldn’t lie. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Because it would be good to be sure?”

  “Experimentation is the only way to quantify a reaction. It’s the best way to test a hypothesis.”

  Spencer chuckled. “So, I’m an experiment. Or this is.”

  “You did say you were planning to change my mind,” Liv said. “So, my hypothesis is that attraction is fleeting and thus, unreliable.”

  “And mine is that attraction is a sign.”

  “A sign? What do you mean?”

  “We’re attracted to people who might make good partners, people who might be the ones we could love forever. I’m attracted to you because you’re a good candidate.”

  “But how could you know for sure?” Liv was genuinely curious.

  “We’d have to get to know each other better, then trust our instincts.” He nodded. “Then, of course, each of us would have to be a good partner and feed the relationship, be honest, listen, all that good stuff.”

  “And how does that tie into sex.” She blushed when he glanced from the discarded shackles to her. “Pun intended.”

  He pursed his lips as he thought. “I hypothesize that when we can’t get enough of a specific person, then that’s another sign.”

  “So, there’s a whole row of signs.”

  “A process of greater commitment.” He smiled. “When a sequence of hypotheses are proven correct.”

  Liv smiled at that. “That’s good.” She then continued, feeling bold. “It turns out we have time to do more testing.”

  “Tell me what you want,” Spencer said, a little challenge in his voice.

  “More,” Liv admitted, her voice catching on the confession.

  “Isn’t that irrational?”

  “Yes, but it’s true all the same.”

  “So, my hypotheses are winning.”

  “So far, but it’s early in the experiment.”

  Spencer bent to brush his lips across hers. “I like the sound of it being a very long one,” he said, his breath so warm on her skin that she shivered. “You’re cold,” he murmured, raising one hand to cup her breast. His thumb eased across her nipple, teasing it to a tighter peak even through the cotton, then he pinched it between his finger and thumb. Liv closed her eyes and leaned back, welcoming his touch. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

  It seemed brazen to ask for it, but his caress brought the words to Liv’s lips. “That,” she confessed and his pinch tightened briefly. Liv arched her back. “And I want you to go down on me again.”

  “Just to prove that your pleasure wasn’t an isolated incident?” He was teasing her and she knew it, but Liv didn’t care—as long as he didn’t stop.

  “And to verify that the reaction can be more powerful each time in succession. That’s your theory and I’m skeptical.”

  “So, you volunteer to be the test subject.”

  Liv laughed and opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. “All in the name of science,” she said and he smiled.

  “You haven’t asked me what I want,” he murmured.

  “Then tell me.”

  “You,” he said, a blaze in his eyes. He tugged the hem of the T-shirt. “Naked.”

  “You, too.”

  Spencer stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head, kicking off his jeans and everything else by the time Liv removed the T-shirt she was wearing. He held up a finger, then gave her a wicked smile. “One more thing,” he said and ducked into the bedroom. He came back with the blindfold.

  “But...” Liv protested, even as he put it on.

  “It’s supposed to heighten your other senses,” he whispered in her ear. “Let’s make sure.”

  Liv didn’t argue, because she could already tell he was right. She felt like her nerve endings were alert, waiting for his first move. She was tingling all over and her nipples were tight. She was already wet, for goodness’ sake, and she licked her lips in anticipation.

  She heard the water splash, then Spencer guided her to the middle of the room with one hand. With the other, he ran the wet cloth over her, and she clung to his hand to keep her balance. The facecloth was soft and thick, much softer and thicker than the cheap ones Liv bought. The water was warm and there was a smooth lather that smelled of vanilla.

  He started with the back of her neck, then moved the cloth over her shoulder and down to her breast. His hand was strong behind the cloth, massaging her as he washed her skin. The water ran in rivulets down to the floor and once again, Liv shivered in a delicious way. He washed her arms and her underarms, her back and her breasts, using lots of water and taking his time. It felt sensuous and decadent to have him do this. Inefficient. Wonderful.

  He rinsed her skin, then poured more hot water. She heard him squeeze out the cloth, then felt its heat land on her skin again. He eased it down her belly and she inhaled, knowing what he’d wash next.

  “You should hurry,” she said, hearing that she was breathless.

  “Why? We have lots of time, and I’m enjoying this.”

  He raised the cloth to her nipple, caress
ing it so that Liv arched her back. She felt her lips part and heard herself gasp, then Spencer was kissing her. He released her other hand and locked his arm around her waist, holding her tightly against him as his mouth slanted across hers. He did taste like toothpaste and he felt strong even though his touch was both gentle and persistent. He teased that nipple to a peak, making Liv writhe against him, then she felt him smile.

  His hand slid down the length of her in a bold caress, then slipped between her thighs. She gasped when the warm cloth eased over her labia, then moaned when he began to pinch her clitoris. The cloth was just rough enough to drive her crazy and she found herself on her toes, her hands locked around his neck. She pressed against him, rubbing herself against his erection, and heard him catch his breath. Maybe it was because she couldn’t see his reaction, but Liv felt that she could act on her need. She wrapped one leg around his waist, giving him greater access, and felt Spencer’s heart skip.

  “Tell me what you want,” he demanded against her throat, his voice a low growl.

  “I want you to eat me,” she confessed.

  “I thought you didn’t like it.” He was alternatively pressing on her clitoris and flicking against it, the combination making Liv squirm with desire.

  “I like when you do it,” she admitted, knowing that she was blushing. “I like how you do it.”

  “Why? What do you like about it?”

  “I like your tongue. I like your teeth. I like the way you tease me and pinch me.” He dropped the cloth and slid his fingers inside her, working her clitoris with his thumb. Liv shuddered from head to toe, but knew what he wanted. “I liked when you made me touch myself and give you a taste.”

  His hand moved and she almost whimpered that his touch was gone. Then she smelled her own arousal and knew he was licking his own fingers. “Delicious,” he murmured again, then kissed her. “Tell me what it’s like.”

  “Like honey. Thick and sweet.”

  “Exactly,” Spencer growled and spun her around. He wrapped her in that same luxurious bathrobe, his hands moving so quickly that she couldn’t anticipate him. Then he picked her up and she knew because the air was warming that he’d carried her back into the bedroom. She fell onto the bed, then he followed her, crawling up the length of her with intent. “Invite me,” he demanded and Liv spread her legs wide. She pushed back the robe, displaying herself to him in a way that would have been impossible if she hadn’t been blindfolded.

  He made a little growl of satisfaction, then his hands slid up her thighs. He braced himself over her, and she felt the warmth of his breath right before his mouth closed over her with resolve. Liv moaned and surrendered to his touch, knowing he would give her exactly what she wanted.

  And even a little more.

  Maybe her hunger for Spencer was a learned response to stimulus.

  If anything, Olivia was wetter and sweeter each time they made love. Spencer knew it was because she was feeling more at ease with him, which meant their encounters were becoming more honest and intimate. They were approaching the sweet spot, where each time would be both a revelation and a satisfaction—he wanted not just to get there but to remain there for the duration.

  With Olivia.

  He wanted her too much this time to tease her over and over again. If anything, his appetite for the feast she offered was becoming more intense. He took her to the cusp once, then ensured that she found her pleasure, taking great satisfaction from the way she cried out in her release.

  He didn’t give her long to savor it, though. He wanted her too much. He wiped his mouth, then caught her up in his arms and kissed her, carrying her to the large leather chair in the main room. She was on her feet, tipped over the back of it in a heartbeat, her giggle telling him that she was more than pleased with his choice. She removed the robe and threw it aside, and Spencer enjoyed the view. He watched Olivia spread her hands over the leather, fingers outstretched as she savored the smoothness of it, and wondered if she was learning the power of sensation after all. Then she moved her feet apart and lifted her butt toward him, rising to her toes. She was completely compliant and so wet that he was afraid he’d come too fast.

  He gripped her hips and lifted her slightly, sliding himself through the folds of her labia so that she shivered in anticipation. He eased inside her slick heat and she sighed with satisfaction, then wriggled against him.

  “Okay?” she asked.

  “Fantastic. Okay for you?”

  She moved back against him again and Spencer caught his breath. “Oh, yes.” There was such satisfaction in her voice that he smiled.

  And he knew how he could improve that. He moved, easing deeper then out again, then slid one hand beneath her. He let his fingers ease through her pubic hair to her clitoris and she tensed for a moment.

  “I don’t think I can again. Not so soon,” she whispered, the tension in her voice indicating otherwise.

  “Let’s find out,” Spencer said, teasing her clitoris as he moved. He closed his own eyes, lost in the pleasure that was Olivia.

  “All in the interest of science,” she said, then her voice caught and neither of them said anything articulate for a while.

  Chapter Four

  Liv couldn’t understand it.

  She watched Spencer organizing produce on the counter, fascinated by her own reaction to the sight.

  She wanted him. Again.

  Still.

  Despite having had him multiple times.

  If anything, she wanted him more than she had the day before. Her appetite was far from exhausted: it was stronger.

  That was incomprehensible. She watched him, wondering if she could be wrong and he could be right.

  Spencer was working on the far side of the counter, moving with efficiency. There was a line of small bowls down the middle of the counter, all the same white ceramic but of different sizes.

  Liv was more interested in Spencer than what he was doing. They’d washed up together and dressed again, Spencer putting on the same clothes as earlier. He’d loaned Liv a sweatshirt, but she was wearing her own jeans and underwear. She wished she had another pair, but was glad that Spencer didn’t have a stash of women’s underclothes as part of his preparation for guests.

  He flashed her a smile. “Coffee?”

  “Please.”

  She watched his hands as he poured it into a mug from a pot on the stove, added a swirl of milk, then pushed it across the counter to her. It was nice that he remembered how she preferred her coffee. She sipped and was astonished by the powerful flavor. It was as if her senses had been suddenly turned on after slumbering for all of her life. She tasted it again and it was just as delicious.

  “Good?” he asked, obviously noting her reaction.

  “Amazing,” Liv admitted. “Best ever.”

  “Fresh ground beans,” Spencer said, his tone matter-of-fact. “I had to use the hand grinder this morning.”

  Liv nodded, knowing then what the unfamiliar sound had been. She took another sip and felt the coffee’s heat flood through her. Everything had changed, as if she’d been awakened. “Are you going to tell me that this is like the cocoa? That there’s no going back?”

  He laughed and she knew he liked the idea. “Maybe you’re going to tell me that.”

  “Maybe I just really needed a coffee,” she said, her tone teasing as she slid onto a stool to watch him.

  “Maybe you’re paying more attention now.”

  Because of the blindfold. Liv felt like she was starting to blush again and knew Spencer was watching. She closed her eyes and took another sip, letting the coffee roll over her tongue. It really was the best cup she’d ever had.

  Maybe it was because her senses were sharper, even without the blindfold.

  Spencer had an expression of satisfaction when she opened her eyes again and Liv put the cup down on the counter, keeping her hands wrapped around it. “Maybe I’ll get hooked on it.”

  “You know where to come for more.”


  “Maybe that’s your diabolical plan.”

  “It wasn’t, but it’s not a bad idea.” His gaze warmed. “I could get used to you coming around for coffee. And more.”

  Liv didn’t know what to say to that. This wasn’t permanent or even ongoing and she didn’t want to suggest otherwise. She was going to England. And probably not coming back soon—if ever.

  For the first time, Liv wondered if that really was such a great plan. She loved being in the research lab and doing the hard work to back up a theory, but the prospect of months alone seemed a little less appealing this morning.

  She watched Spencer work and noticed a thousand little details about him, things she’d never paid attention to before. His eyelashes were thick and dark, which made his eyes look more blue. He had a tiny dimple below the corner of his mouth, one that appeared so rarely that she wasn’t surprised she hadn’t seen it before. His eyes brightened in color when he was intent, as he was now. His hands were strong and capable and it was all too easy to remember the sight—and the feel—of them on her skin.

  The fridge door was open slightly and she guessed that it was empty. The power was off, after all. “What’s in that box?” she asked, pointing to the box by the door. It was white cardboard, like a box from a bakery.

  Spencer made a face. “Cupcakes left too close to the fire for too long.”

  “Oh! They must be Reyna’s.”

  “And not a pretty sight.”

  “Let’s not tell her.”

  He spared her a glance that spoke volumes.

  “What did you do with everything from the fridge?”

  “The basement is colder, so I loaded a couple of coolers down there with the perishables. We’ll have to eat our way through things.”

  “That’s not much of a break for you.”

  “I love cooking,” he said, and she heard the truth of that in his tone.

  “This looks really organized, like laying out the materials for a procedure in advance.” Liv said, gesturing to the line of bowls.

  “Mise en place,” Spencer said.

  Liv didn’t understand but she recognized the phrase. “That’s what your tattoo says.” She indicated the image on his forearm of a chef’s knife with those words beneath it in script. “What does it mean?”