Snowed In

by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  “I would say you can’t always get what you want, but I’ve seen you do it time and again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Every time someone has told you that you can’t do something you turn around and do it. Your high school coach said you couldn’t play college basketball, you made it onto a championship team. Dad said you didn’t understand enough about business, so you started your own and are probably making more money than he is. I could give you more examples, but some of them involve potty training and things I’m not supposed to know about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like kissing Katie Gordon when you were fourteen and your brother said you couldn’t do it.”

  “I don’t know if kissing the prettiest girl in junior high is going to score me any points with Marissa.” He couldn’t help but laugh at how funny it was that his mother had a different perspective than he did on the same events.

  “You always figure out a way to get what you want, even if you have to think outside the box. I wish I could do that. If I could I would have grandbabies by now, while I’m still young enough to teach them to ski and dance and shop.”

  “Dial it back, Mom.”

  She shrugged. “If I’d known you and your brother were going to take this long, I think I would have had more kids. We were so busy building the business when you boys were young, it went by too fast.”

  The front door pushed open as his father and brother came in, snow dusting their matching gray beanies.

  “Smells like dinner in here,” his dad said as he untied the coat from around his waist. “We made a great trail, but now I need a shower.”

  “Don’t use all the hot water. I haven’t had mine yet.”

  A sly smile crossed his dad’s weathered face. “Well, what’s stopping you?”

  She grinned, then raced up the stairs, with his father hot on her heels.

  “And that’s why we’re not married,” Greg said as he opened the fridge for a sports drink.

  “Why’s that?”

  Greg shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but I want that. Not the bickering and resentment I keep seeing with my friends. I want that, a friend who is more.”

  Scott nodded. He knew, and he couldn’t let it get away.

  15

  Marissa yawned and stretched out an arm to shut off her bedside lamp. She set her book on the nightstand and sighed. The characters had fallen asleep on a wave of orgasmic bliss, and now that she’d experienced that kind of pleasure, she wanted it for herself. But her personal orgasm-delivery service was hours away, having a cozy holiday with his family. She couldn’t interrupt with a story about drawing a whipped-cream map to all her favorite spots. Instead she’d have to settle for showing him in her dreams.

  Too soon her alarm would go off and she’d have to be ready to bum-rush the other Black Friday shoppers for half-price socks and towels. And maybe a television if they could catch one of the door busters. Her friends usually had tastes too high-end to shop together, but the biggest shopping day of the year was a great equalizer. No one wanted to pay more than they had to for the necessities.

  Rain tapped lightly on her window, cars sloshing through puddles as they drove by. The sound had almost lulled her to sleep when someone knocked on her front door and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Those heifers were early.

  She climbed out of her warm bed and trudged to the door. She’d told everyone she would not shop on Thanksgiving proper. It was a matter of principle, she didn’t want to reward companies for stealing a family holiday away from their employees. If her friends wanted to pull an all-nighter, they were on their own. She wasn’t going anywhere until the five A.M. sock sale.

  Out of habit she checked the peephole while she unlocked the deadbolt and her entire body froze, not even breathing. Scott stood on the other side as if they did this on the regular. But they didn’t. Never had before. She was supposed to have two more days to get ready, to buy whipped cream and lingerie, to shore herself up before for the tsunami of emotions his presence generated.

  Unless she’d dreamed him up. She’d been in bed seconds ago, thinking how great it would be to have him here. This felt real, but maybe it was a lucid dream. She opened the door, intent on finding out just how real he was.

  They simply stared at one another, the cool air peaking her nipples and showing her how real this was. She opened her mouth to ask him why he was there, but before a word escaped her, he’d pushed his way inside, dropped his bag on the floor, and covered her mouth with his own. He tasted of coffee and chocolate, smelled like soap and cedar, and blew all the sensual circuits in her body.

  He kicked the door closed, the room in shadows, lit only by the streetlamps outside. Nothing else existed as passion took control of her, body and mind, and he was equally out of control. Like they were feeding off one another’s desire, excitement rushed through her as thoughts fell away, sensation taking over. Desire climbed higher when he pushed her against the wall, his tongue tangling deep with hers. She clutched at his shoulders, his muscles bunching beneath her hands.

  His rough hands traveled over her body like he was checking to see if she were real too. He gripped her hips and slid his hands up, finding she wore nothing beneath the shirt she slept in. She felt the smile in his kiss as he lifted her higher up the wall, parting her legs. Her feet dangled, so she wrapped her legs around him for leverage, his jeans rough against her inner thighs.

  She threaded her hands in his hair, her arms around his shoulders as she held on. She moaned into the kiss, trembling from the intensity. She wanted his clothes off, but she didn’t want to break apart long enough to make it happen. She wanted this, now, because it didn’t get better.

  His big body was heavy against hers, as if they could meld into one person. He squeezed her breast with one hand while the other slipped between them, his fingers finding how slick this made her. She wanted to scream out Now, like this, please, but there was no way she could talk when he pushed his cock into her with one fierce stroke. Pleasure took over, the friction of his pumping in and out, hard and fast, grinding against her clit, until she could barely breathe. She turned her face into his neck, breathing in nothing but the scent of him. She moaned and he growled and she hoped her neighbors were asleep. Because she couldn’t be polite, couldn’t stop this, not before she came. She rolled her hips and he swore, his breath raspy and desperate in her ear.

  The change in angle was all she needed to find her release. She came in giant clenching gasps, his cock deep within her, pressing her to come harder, to keep coming as her world darkened around the edges. He gripped her hips and kept pushing, as if it were possible to go deeper, to actually crawl inside of her and share in an orgasm that had her whole body trembling.

  He roared out and gripped her hips tighter, his powerful body shaking in tiny spasms. She kissed his neck as he came, the saltiness of his skin familiar to her tongue. Reality dripped back into her mind. Little things like wanting to see him naked and wondering if they were about to collapse onto the floor. She released one leg, reaching for the floor but not finding it. But the slight movement felt so good she started to roll her hips. Slow tiny circles with his thick cock still filling her up.

  She didn’t know what it was about Scott that did this to her, released her inhibitions and had her indulging in impulses she’d never dared to try. He felt so solid, so masculine, she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Especially when he helped her by kissing her neck and pressing his hands onto her ass to hold her right there, in just the right spot. She raced toward another climax, catching it with a strangled gasp.

  She rested her head on his shoulder, breath sharp in her chest, panting until her mind caught up with her body. Eventually she lifted her gaze to his shadowed face and grinned.

  “Hi there. Thanks for coming over.”

  “I came here, you came over and over.” She heard the smile she couldn’t see.

  “Isn’t it fabulous?”

  “You�
��re right. You are pretty spectacular.”

  She unwound herself from his body, as he slipped from her she felt a warm wetness between her legs. “You didn’t use a condom?”

  His eyes widened, and he shook his head. He lowered his brows and pressed his lips together like he was trying to figure out how it happened. He tucked himself away before meeting her gaze again. “I don’t know how I forgot. I always remember. They’re right there in my bag.” He glanced toward the backpack, then continued, his voice a little shaky. “I really didn’t plan to jump you as soon as you opened the door. I saw you and this place smells like you and my brain went all—”

  “Caveman.” She believed he hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it had. She couldn’t put words to exactly how she felt. She pressed her thighs together and tugged her nightshirt back in place. She glanced down at the colorful garden tools, TALK DIRTY TO ME in giant letters. And her hair was in a ponytail, she wasn’t wearing makeup, and she hadn’t had a pedicure since the wedding.

  He scrubbed his hands over his face and let go a heavy sigh. “Exactly. And then you tasted amazing and felt so damned good and it never entered my mind. And it always has before.” He sat on the loveseat in the middle of the living room. That and an end table were all that remained. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.” Maybe she should explain that on occasion she was actually attractive. Not that he’d seen much of that.

  “I think I do. I’m sorry I didn’t bother with hello, and forgot condoms existed, and didn’t make sure you came first.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. He sat there like he hadn’t walked in the door and fucked her brains out.

  “I came first, I think.” She wondered if she could somehow make letting her hair down seem natural. Or if she could sneak into her bedroom and swap her nightshirt for camisole.

  “I know. But that was luck, not skill.” He dropped his head back on the couch.

  “Don’t sell yourself short.” She eyed her bedroom door. If her limbs weren’t so darn heavy she might be able to disappear for five minutes and fix herself.

  “So, hi. How was your Thanksgiving?” he asked like they were meeting for coffee.

  “Good. My dad’s team won the football game he had money on, so he was in a great mood. The roads were clear, so I made great time.” She placed a hand on her hip and wondered how they slipped from sexy to awkward without stalling out.

  “So did I, once I cleared the mountains. Traffic isn’t as much of an issue on holidays, though parking was another matter entirely.”

  “I know. Having my own parking space is the one perk of Tanya moving out.”

  He glanced about the room. “And taking everything with her.”

  “It was her stuff. I’m not sure what I want to do for my next place. I’ve gotten used to living alone, but it’s safer to live with someone else. And cheaper. I won’t need much if I rent a room in someone’s house, but I don’t like sharing a bathroom with strangers.” Which she needed right about now. Safe sex was so much cleaner.

  “I know a place you could stay for free and have your own bathroom.”

  “Do you still have rentals here?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to have real estate enter into their relationship. It would be quite the cluster when things ended. Get out of my life and my house. She wrapped her arms around herself in a hug. No, she never wanted to be adrift ever again.

  “You could always come live with me.” He smiled like he’d just solved world peace and world hunger with a single idea.

  “That would be a hell of a commute.” She walked to the kitchen. She didn’t have his caliber of wine, but if he was going to get back on the give-up-your-life-and-be-with-me train, she needed a glass. Or three.

  “Maybe in your car. But we’ll get you an SUV and the road would be fine. It only takes fifteen minutes to get to town from my place.”

  “But three hours to get to Portland, where I work.” She came back to the living room and set the bottle and corkscrew on the table beside him. “You take care of this while I go clean up, and then you can tell me why you’re here.”

  “Clean up what?” He peeled the seal from the wine.

  “Your mess.” She smiled as his eyes widened.

  He scrubbed at the back of his neck. “Shit. Sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”

  “Stop apologizing or I’m going to take advantage of your useless guilt.”

  “From the way your eyes are sparkling, I bet I’d like it.”

  She laughed all the way to her bedroom, closing the door and flipping on the light. She looked about the space in a panic. Just how the hell were they going to sleep together on a twin bed?

  Scott found exactly two wineglasses in Marissa’s bare kitchen. He poured them each a healthy dose and then settled on her floral-print loveseat, which was more of an oversized chair. He turned on the single lamp, giving the room a warm glow. The nearly empty apartment looked like she was waiting for a moving van to bring the rest of her things. The loveseat and one end table were plopped into the center of a room, the areas that should have had a dining table and a television noticeably vacant.

  He’d expected to find something modern and comfortable, feminine and classy. This was her first apartment out of college. He loved how unpredictable she was, but this had come out of left field. If she was so determined to stay in Portland, why didn’t it look like she lived here?

  Her bedroom door opened and she stepped out, a vision in a short black satin robe with white lace trim. She’d let her hair down, the deep red waves caressing her shoulders. He sat up straighter and swallowed hard, reminding himself to stay calm and not jump her again.

  She smiled like she knew exactly the effect she was having on him. Her hips swayed with each step as she walked his way, stopping right in front of him. The tie to her robe right at his eye level was the greatest temptation he’d ever resisted.

  “My eyes are up here.” She gave him a megawatt smile.

  “I’m being such an asshole right now.” He clenched his hands so he didn’t reach out and grab her. “I underestimated how much I’d missed you.”

  “I can tell.” She handed him his wineglass before taking her own and sitting beside him, her legs across his lap. “So, why are you here?”

  “If you want an actual conversation, you’re going to need to put on some clothes.” He sipped at the wine, sharp and earthy on his tongue.

  “You know how well I take that advice. I like to have you off kilter. It evens the playing field.”

  “Yeah, no. You are so hot my brain is melting into a pool of take-her-now.”

  She tilted her head back as she laughed, the sound better than any music he’d ever heard.

  “I know you said Saturday.”

  “Because I have a marathon day of shopping planned for tomorrow.”

  “I thought twenty minutes of your Thursday was worth it.” He shook his head, because out loud it did sound crazy.

  “Worth three hours of driving? When your family is visiting?”

  He nodded, wishing she felt the same way. From the incredulous expression on her face she obviously did not. “If you’re waiting for me to offer to leave, it’s not going to happen.”

  “Oh, no. I don’t want you to go. I’m just not sure what to make of you.”

  “You could make love to me. That’s a start.”

  “It would be a crime not to.” She sipped her wine, though her gaze never left his face. “You really do want to be with me.”

  “Pretty sure I was clear on that.” The wine wasn’t helping soothe his nerves, but it gave him something to do while she stared at him.

  “I thought it was a line.”

  “No, you didn’t.” He saw it then, the vulnerability she kept shuttered. The fear she’d locked up tight.

  “Let’s not talk about it tonight.” She stood and took his wineglass, setting them both beside the bottle. “Let’s table it until Sunday when you have to lea
ve.” She held out her hand.

  For a brief second he thought about insisting they work it all out, right now. But she was right, it was late, and they had the rest of their lives to find their way to forever.

  Marissa needed to invent a knock-proof door. Scott’s arms tensed around her as it woke him. She’d been hoping her friends would give up, but they were on their third round of “Marissa, we know you’re in there.” She’d thought about sneaking out of bed when she’d first heard them, but they were completely entwined in order to fit on her tiny mattress. She ought to buy a bed he could actually fit in.

  “Your friends are persistent.” He yawned and his head hit the wall. Again.

  “I’ll get rid of them.” She unwound her body from his, then pulled on her robe while she walked to the door. Her phone vibrated on the charger, Amy’s face flashing on the screen. Marissa opened the door a crack and peered out at her friends.

  Christa had joined the brigade, another great reason to blow off the trip. She sniffled and faked a cough. “I’m too sick to shop.”

  “You’re a horrible liar.” Christa stepped to the side and waved her arm like a car show model. “Besides, I brought you a forgive-me gift.”

  Marissa blinked at the giant cardboard box Taylor held in her arms and her heart swelled, her eyes going misty. They’d gotten her a TV. She couldn’t keep them out now. She ushered them in, hoping Scott would stay put.

  “It’s a smart TV,” Christa explained. “So you don’t even need cable. It will work off your Wi-Fi. But you have to stop being mad at me.”

  “I’m not mad at you.” They set the TV against the wall where Tanya’s used to hang. She avoided the urge to blockade her bedroom door to keep her secrets safe.

  “You’re not returning my calls.” Christa put on a world-class pout. “And you missed pedicures last weekend.”

  “I was in LA for work. Taylor or Amy could have told you that.” She didn’t deny avoiding the calls. Just because losing her hotel room had been a pleasurable experience didn’t mean she wasn’t disappointed about the way it went down.