Snowed In

by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Her heart galloped as she remembered the strip of blue condoms Tanya had put in the bridesmaids’ kits as a joke. She jumped out of bed and raced up the stairs, her pulse hammering as she took the gift bag from her suitcase and shook the contents onto the bed she’d never slept in. Lip balm and mints, bobby pins and double-sided tape, a nail file and aspirin, tissues and lotion, and no condoms. She shook the bag again, and knew exactly what had happened.

  She left the mess and stomped down the stairs. This whole situation was maddening.

  “What was that about?” Scott asked, standing there in the kitchen with a wine bottle in one hand and a corkscrew in the other. It was patently unfair to have a man that delicious so close and not be able to have him whenever she wanted, and as much as she wanted.

  “If homicide is justifiable, do you still go to jail?” She leaned against the counter, transfixed by the way his muscles bunched as he pulled out the cork.

  “I think only self-defense gets a pass.” The wine glugged as he filled their glasses. “Or insanity.”

  “There you go.” She took the glass he offered, then clinked their glasses together in a toast. “I’m going to kill Christa.”

  He took a sip of his wine. “Seems fair. Why are we killing her today?”

  “Because she stole my condoms.”

  His green eyes widened. “You’re right, she has to die.”

  “I know, right? They were these ridiculous blue ones that were more party favor than anything else. I would never make you go Smurf dick unless it was an emergency, and this whole unprepared situation is an emergency.” She took a deep sip of the wine, trying to quiet her brain from making not-so-helpful suggestions. Because this was not a sign she shouldn’t sleep with him.

  “I’m prepared, just not for the sexual tsunami that is you.”

  Her heart gave a little squeeze. “Oh, that’s sweet.”

  “Thanks?” He set his glass on the counter, then added pasta to the rapidly boiling water on the stove.

  She took a fortifying drink, because she didn’t want to have this conversation. It was a talk you had with a boyfriend you’d known for years, and while they’d known each other a long time, this part of their relationship had only existed for a day. “I have to ask you something awkward.”

  “Awkward is what we do, sugar.” He crossed the room to the fridge, right beside where she stood. He started to open the door, but she stilled him with a hand on his arm.

  “Have you ever run out of condoms before?”

  He blinked slowly, but didn’t seem to catch her meaning. “No. I’m not saying I’m some kind of monk, but it’s been a slow year for me. If it weren’t for the bachelor party here last week, I’d only have two.”

  “The blue ones from the groomsmen’s gift bags?” She’d been so smart to prep those for Matt. The guy hadn’t even known groomsman gifts were a thing.

  He nodded, then kissed her forehead before diving into the fridge. “You’re worth Smurf dick.” He closed the door and set his spoils on the counter. Parmesan cheese, a zucchini, and half an onion.

  “Zucchini and I don’t have the best relationship.”

  He held it in one hand and turned to face her. “It’s good with cheese.”

  She shook her head. “My friends used zucchinis to try and help me with my blow job failure.”

  “Yeah, who needs vegetables.” He returned them to the fridge. He took her wineglass and refilled it. “And yes, I’m clean. Condoms every time, blood work every year. Is this because you need to tell me something? Because after last night, it’s probably too late to do anything about it now.”

  “Oh, no, not me. I had to go in every three months for two years. I’m fine.”

  “Why so often?” He picked up his wine like they were talking about the weather.

  “Chris called to say he had hepatitis C. He wasn’t sure when he got it, so I had to be tested.”

  He cringed. “You didn’t use protection?”

  She shook her head. “I went on the pill in high school and I’d been with him forever. He was my first everything.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay.” He turned back to the pasta, but anger radiated from him.

  “I know we should have talked about it before, but it wasn’t like either of us planned to wind up in bed together. You have every right to be mad at me. It’s okay if you don’t want to be with me now. I get it.”

  “Oh sugar, I’m not mad at you.” He took the two steps to cross the kitchen and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to his chest. Relief rushed through her and she laid her head against him, listening to his steady heartbeat. “I’m killing him in my head.”

  “Can we kick his ass out of our heads now? I’d rather it just be you and me.” She looked up at him and smiled.

  “You like me more than you let on.” He kissed her then, tasting her lips but not pushing for more. He released her and went back to the stove as if they made dinner together like this all the time.

  “I’m not exactly playing hard to get.”

  “No, just hard to keep.”

  He had her there. After what she’d been through, there was no way she’d ever be comfortable in a long-distance relationship. She didn’t have that much trust left.

  He took two bowls from the cupboard and then turned to face her. “We’re being really honest here, right?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Okay. So, we’ve had all this buildup playing Will I, won’t I? and I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “I’m not worried about it, but if you are we could take the edge off.” She set her wine on the counter as she stepped to him, then palmed him through his jeans. She rubbed her thumb over the head of his cock and almost felt bad that he’d been like this all day. Except she’d been trying to do something about it. “We could get cozy in the living room like we did last night, and leave our clothes on.”

  “I don’t think I’d be able to.” He took both her hands in his, then pulled them behind his back. “I need you to tell me if we do anything you don’t like . . .”

  Desire sank low in her belly, her pussy starting to ache with want. “I want to see how far you’ll take me.” She grabbed his ass with both hands. “I wish you were naked right now.”

  “Never change, Marissa.” He kissed the top of her head like she’d just told him she got straight As on her report card, and then turned back to the stove.

  “There aren’t enough chocolate cookies in the world to deal with you. You keep turning me on and off, on and off.”

  “Actually you’re more of a side to side.” He drained the pasta, steam billowing up from the sink.

  She took a sip of her wine and realized his meaning. “Are you talking about my clit? Here in the kitchen?”

  “You grabbed my dick in the kitchen.”

  They really were a couple of heathens. “I don’t know if we can be together around other people.”

  “Because of your sex obsession?”

  “My sex obsession? You’re the one whose dick is permanently hard.”

  He lowered his brows and his voice. “You’re wet right now.”

  She didn’t bother denying it. “This is exactly what I mean.”

  “It could be fun, trying to have what seems like a normal conversation but still getting each other hot.”

  She hesitated, trying to sound casual. “Are we going to do that, though? Be around other people, together?”

  “Could you come to town and not see Tanya?”

  “Not without feeling guilty. And she’d want to know where I was staying, and I see your point. But I don’t want the questions and the judgments. Can’t we keep us between us?”

  “I’m not going to lie.”

  “Me either. I just don’t think it needs to be some big announcement. Oh, Marissa and Scott hooked up after the wedding, news at eleven. Because then everyone will be calling me to find out what happened and how you were and what are we doing now.”

  “They’ll
ask how I am, like, in bed?” He scratched at the stubble along his jaw.

  She gave a half shrug. “There was some speculation about your, you know, back in school.”

  “What about it?” He straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin.

  “You’re not exactly a zucchini.” She studied the cabinet knobs made from burled tree branches so she didn’t have to watch his chest puff up at the compliment.

  “What are you going to tell them?”

  “I can’t pass judgment on something I’ve never actually experienced.”

  “You’re going to lie?”

  “What? I haven’t had the pleasure.” She swirled what was left of her wine.

  “You can only hold on to that one for at most an hour. So by the time they ask, you’ll know.” His distinctive green eyes flashed with challenge.

  “I’ll tell them to get their own dick and stop thinking about mine.”

  His handsome face lit up. “Yours, huh?”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. If I have to answer and don’t stake a claim, you’ll have them lining up. And none of them have gag reflexes. I don’t need the competition.”

  “No one can compete with your mouth. Will you grab the wine?” He carried their dinner to the table, then took a seat. “Marissa, you have to eat. You’ll need your energy. I’m not going to remember to stop and feed you, and since you can’t eat dick, it might be a while before there is anything else in your mouth.”

  She joined him at the table, then twirled her fork in the pasta. “You’re a filthy beast.”

  “And you love it.”

  The fire flamed high, crackling and hissing as it heated the room. Marissa stepped out of the kitchen, expecting Scott to be waiting for her there, in front of the fireplace, where she imagined the warm glow would lick their bodies, letting her see what she’d only been able to feel last night.

  Since he’d cooked, she’d offered to do the dishes, allowing herself a little breathing space. Her engine had been revving and idling for far too long. The stakes seemed impossibly high for what should be a simple, post-wedding sexfest. Christa had done it, along with half the other bridesmaids. Scott was onto something about the buildup being too high. If tonight didn’t go well, he’d probably lose interest and deciding whether to keep talking with him once she made it home would be a moot point.

  “Hey, Sasquatch?” She stood by the hearth, the floor warm beneath her bare feet.

  Scott grunted from inside his bedroom, but she couldn’t see inside in the darkness.

  “This fire is begging to be appreciated properly.”

  He appeared in his doorway, stretching his hands to the molding above. Her mouth watered as he stood there, his jeans unbuttoned and riding even lower than before, the honed muscles of his bare chest shadowed in the firelight.

  “What I want to do to you shouldn’t be done on a wood floor.” His gaze fell heavy on her mouth, the intensity enough to make her dizzy. The hunger in his eyes was overwhelming.

  “See, that makes me nervous.” She pushed her sweaty palms against the soft flannel. Heat bloomed everywhere, and she couldn’t blame it on the roaring fire. This was all Scott.

  “No, it makes you hot. You’re just not used to it yet.”

  What was it about this man, this frustrating, unpredictable man, that sent her mind spinning? He blurred the edges of her world, focused her thoughts on him and him alone. Her body sang and her heart squeezed and the whole damn thing was as terrifying as it was erotic. She didn’t want this to mean anything, didn’t want to offer more than she could afford to lose, but one look at his gorgeous green eyes and she’d give the world for his smile.

  “Are you going to come to bed, or do you want me to come get you?” The promise in his voice rumbled through her.

  She walked toward him, each step making her aware of how turned on she was already. If he’d been farther way she might have gotten off just by looking at him and putting one foot in front of the other. By the time she reached him, she could barely breathe.

  “You’re not going to need this.” His steady hands undressed her with ease, leaving her completely bare to him. He drew one blunt finger along the V between her legs. “When did you take off your panties?”

  “In the kitchen.” She spread her hands along the contours of his stomach, the connection easing her nerves. She traced the lines of his abdomen down to his hard cock, the only thing holding up his unbuttoned jeans. Instead of the zip fly she’d expected, she found more buttons, which meant her fingers were right there, her mind torn between wanting his pants off and needing to have him inside of her as soon as possible. She’d never realized need could ache this deeply.

  He grabbed her fumbling hands and pulled her arms behind her, his long fingers clamped around her wrists and anchoring them there. The act lifted her chest, her breasts rising higher. Oh, she shouldn’t like this, the dominance of it, the control he took, the power in his gaze. But she did, how she did.

  “Marissa, what have you done?” He didn’t wait for a response, just kissed her, hard and demanding. It made her head swim, but each time she tried to lean into it he tugged on her hands, making her stand up taller. She couldn’t breathe until he released her, staring down with his lips swollen and glossy.

  “Please,” she begged, not even sure what for.

  “Spread your legs.” The echo from earlier made her pussy clench as she stepped wide. He palmed her sex and slipped his fingers into her folds. She didn’t intend to rock against his palm, but she was so close that she whimpered when he withdrew his hand. She tried bring her thighs together, but he kept a foot between hers.

  “That’s not fair.” She pulled her lip between her teeth, tasting him there.

  “You’re telling me.” He outlined one nipple with his wet fingers, and then the other.

  “I mean, you’ve had sex with me, but I haven’t had sex with you. You know what I want, but I’m just standing here, still trying to figure out what you want.”

  “I want you.”

  “To do what though?”

  “Let me play.”

  She stared up at him and for a lingering moment their gazes locked, those brilliant green eyes taking her in like he glimpsed something unexpected and exciting. She wanted him to always look at her that way, as if he saw something everyone else missed, even her. She’d never known a gaze could be intoxicating, or the scent of a man could stir a primal hunger. Before this weekend with Scott, she would have denied having primal urges at all.

  With his big hand still holding her wrists, he urged her closer until they were almost touching. She had an unexplainable impulse to taste him. She didn’t give into compulsions, but this was like a magnetic pull; she couldn’t deny it. She didn’t intend to lick his throat, had no plan to kiss his neck, or crush her breasts against him, and yet she had no power to stop it. Her mind had gone liquid, desire ruling every move from the way she swirled her tongue to how she lifted her knee and wrapped her leg around his.

  He released her wrists, one strong hand cupping the curve of her ass while the other threaded through her hair, tilting her face up so he could lean down and bring his lips to hers. The kiss lingered, slow and deliberate, as if her body wasn’t begging for release. As if they had days to get there.

  Which they did, but she’d explode before then. Death by sexual frustration.

  He let her go, breaking the kiss and leaving her standing there openmouthed. He stepped back and held out a hand. “Come.”

  “I’m trying to.”

  His delicious grin returned, making her want to kiss it clean off his face. This level of teasing should be illegal. She slipped her hand into his, following him into his darkened bedroom.

  She didn’t wait, just lay down on the bed and used her hold on his hand to bring him down with her, his tall, powerful body fitting perfectly atop hers. Desire kicked in, scattering her worries and fears. She’d deal with them later, when they mattered.

  He tasted of the
wine from dinner, rich and intoxicating. She explored the chiseled contours of his chest, the thick muscles of his upper arms, the defined lines of his stomach. His athletic body was honed by demanding, physical exercise. Yet as solid as he was, when he broke the kiss and stared down at her, vulnerability shadowed his gaze. His thumb trembled as he rubbed her cheek. She turned into his touch and kissed his palm.

  She slid her hand down to his hip, curling a finger into a belt loop on his jeans. “Why are you still wearing pants?”

  He sat up and shed them, tossing them at a wall. “Because if I didn’t have them on I would have taken you in front of the fire.”

  “Yes, please.” She heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper as he protected them.

  “Tomorrow.” He knelt between her splayed legs and tugged her thighs over his, her whole body sliding toward him.

  “You make the most amazing promises.”

  An expression crossed his face, at once savage and defenseless, a strange combination she felt deep in her own soul. A kind of fierce magic swirled around them as he leaned down and kissed her, gently at first and then more demanding as their bodies came together, nothing but skin. He cupped her breasts, her hard nipples against his callused palms, the length of his cock nestled along her slick heat.

  She wanted so much—his lips on her neck, his fingers on her nipples, his cock deep within. She’d never needed anything like this. She tried to pull him to her, but he had her positioned so he was in control. As much as she usually liked to be in charge, this thrilled her.

  He released her breasts and threaded his fingers with hers, pressing her hands over her head and onto the mattress. He left them there as he eased his body into hers, grinning as he drove into her, deep and hard. She gasped as he claimed her, driving in and out, stretching places previously untouched. She relaxed her legs, letting him guide them both harder and deeper than she’d ever known. So full, so complete.

  He released her hands and held her hips as he took her, his body glistening in the distant firelight. The way he pushed into her looked as erotic as it felt, his muscles bunching and releasing as he plunged in and out, in and out. He leaned down, his weight settling over her. She reached for him, twining her arms around his neck and pressing her face into his throat to breathe in that intoxicating sent of soap and cedar and aroused man. Her man.