Ian turned around to the sound of a feminine giggle and discovered Bree on the patio. She was armed with several snowballs and ready to go to battle. An innocent grin spread across Bree’s face, but there was a wicked glint in her eyes. “It’s a snow day,” she argued.
“Aren’t we a little old for a snow day? I don’t recall hearing school was canceled.”
She wasn’t deterred. He recognized that determined lift of her chin. She had strong-armed him into turning off his gadgets and now she was going to bait him into having some fun.
“You need something fun to distract you from all this crap. It doesn’t matter if we’re eight or twenty-eight, we’re going to play in the snow.” She chucked another snowball at him and this one landed squarely on his chest.
“Oh, it is so on!” he shouted. He used his shovel to fling a huge lump of snow at Bree. It sent her scattering off the porch, giving him time to make a few snowballs to defend himself. He took a defensive position behind her SUV. She hunkered down behind a tall drift by the porch.
They lobbed attacks back and forth. Bree got him in the head once, but he fired back and nailed her in the rear end when she bent over to make more snowballs. She squealed in mock rage, kicking off another round of assaults. Ian was getting frustrated, though. They could go like this for hours. It was time for some hand-to-hand combat to make things more interesting.
With a commando-like roar that would’ve made John Rambo proud, Ian charged through the snow and tackled Bree into a drift. With a cry, they sank a good foot into the snow. Once she recovered, Bree playfully fought beneath him. They rolled around, burying themselves in a dusting of white powder and making the most distorted snow angels ever conceived.
At one point, she was able to push Ian off of her and he fell backward into more snow. She started frantically burying him as though they were on the beach, until he rose up, ruining all her hard work and tackling her into fresh powder beside them.
Laughing and exhausted, they finally stopped fighting. Ian couldn’t help smiling as he looked down at Bree, pink-cheeked and grinning with the snow at her back. She looked so beautiful in that moment with her messy blond braid dusted in white powder. Not the perfectly airbrushed and digitally altered perfection of his former fiancée, but real beauty. Flawed and lovely.
He wanted to kiss her again. Last night had whet his appetite without giving him enough to feel satisfied. And he realized at that moment, he could. Without guilt. He wasn’t engaged. The mother of his “child” was nothing but a manipulative liar. Missy would probably keep the six-figure engagement ring he’d bought her, but it was a small price to pay for freedom. All the thoughts about Bree that he’d beaten himself up over in the past twenty-four hours were no longer off-limits.
Bree looked up at him, her bright blue eyes wide and inviting. Her lips were parted softly, her frozen breath escaping her lungs into the cold. He watched intently as her tongue snaked across them. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. It could happen. He could have everything he’d fantasized about since she’d stepped out of her car yesterday. He just had to careful. He’d learned not to give anything more than his body to a woman. Because this was the woman who had taught him that lesson, he had to be doubly careful. He could make love to Bree while they were in the mountains as long as he remembered they would never work in the real world.
“I’m not engaged anymore,” he said, stating the obvious.
“I know,” she said, her voice breathy.
“Last night we had a million reasons why kissing was a bad idea. I hated to let you go, but I knew it was the right thing to do. Today, I can’t think of a single reason why I can’t kiss you again.”
This was her chance. If she didn’t want him—if she still believed he was just a thoughtless, self-destructive workaholic—she just needed to say no and he would respect that. But damn, he didn’t want her to say no. He wanted her to say that she wanted him despite the fact that he was a thoughtless, self-destructive workaholic. That she couldn’t focus on anything but how much she desired him. In the here and now, none of that other stuff mattered.
“Neither can I,” she said with a soft smile.
Barely a second after the words escaped her lips, his mouth was pressed against hers. Bree wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him closer. He reacquainted himself with her, letting his tongue and his hands roam across the familiar yet different territory.
Bree made soft sounds, her fingertips gently pressing into him and urging him on. The noises she made were such a turn-on. They reminded him of heated nights on an uncomfortable twin dorm mattress. Of nights when school, his music, food...nothing was more important than making love to Bree. There was no day so stressful that losing himself in her couldn’t fix it.
He longed for that comfort again. Ian hadn’t had a day this bad in a long time. He wanted nothing more than to find relief from the worries in his mind by forgetting everything but how Bree liked to be touched.
His body stretched along the length of hers, every hard inch of his desire very obviously pressing into the soft curve of her belly. Her body undulated beneath him, the tight fabric of her jeans creating a delicious friction. An aching throb of need was growing more and more intense. If they didn’t go inside right now, he was going to make love to her in the snow.
He had no interest in getting frostbite on sensitive parts he might want to use again later.
Bree broke the kiss. “I’m getting cold,” she said, nearly reading his mind.
“That’s funny. I’m burning up.” And he was. Every inch of his skin felt as if it was doused in kerosene and set ablaze by the heat of her touch. Of course, he wasn’t the one lying against the snow.
Bree leaned up to kiss him again, a smile curling her lips. “Well, then take me inside so we can strip out of these wet clothes and you can warm me up.”
* * *
Bree had lied when she’d said she couldn’t think of a reason why Ian couldn’t kiss her. Well, at least physically there were no barriers to him doing whatever he liked, kissing included. It was more like reasons why he shouldn’t kiss her. There were plenty of those, starting with the most recent and obvious one—that he was emotionally rebounding—and ending with all the reasons they broke up in the first place.
Until this morning, she hadn’t had to give the idea of her and Ian much consideration. There was an attraction there—their chemistry had always been off the charts—but nothing would come of it. He was engaged and starting a family, and she was a professional photographer who didn’t intend on making a habit of sleeping with clients.
With his relationship with Missy imploding this morning, the major barrier to their physical impulses was gone. But that didn’t solve everything.
Handsome or not, Ian was still a workaholic. He still had his business to preoccupy his time. Being trapped here in the mountains had put his impulses on hold, but it wouldn’t last beyond the blizzard. None of this would. The minute they returned to Nashville, everything would fall apart. At best, she would get two, maybe three days with Ian. And she knew that.
But in that moment, when he looked at her with eyes blazing with desire, she didn’t care. None of those reasons mattered anymore. She would deal with the ending of their relationship when they got to the end. But she wasn’t going to let herself ruin the beginning worrying about it.
Not when she was standing in Ian’s bedroom, each of them slowly slipping out of their cold, wet snow gear. His dark green eyes never left hers as he tossed his gloves on the bathroom floor and shrugged out of his coat. Bree did the same, only Ian reached out to take her clothes from her.
They’d left their boots on the porch, so it was easy to take off her socks and then peel the wet jeans from her body. It was at that point that Ian froze in place, watching her undress. Despite how much she wanted out of those cold clothes, she was
going to take her time. She turned around, giving him a full view of her rear end as the denim peeled away and exposed the pink satin bikini-cut panties she wore beneath them.
Ian groaned aloud as she bent over and stepped out of the pants. She followed it with her long-sleeved shirt. When she turned back around wearing nothing but her bra and panties, Ian was standing exactly as she’d left him.
Walking over to him, she pulled his sweater up and over his head. He cooperated with a smile until she reached for the button of his jeans. Then his hand came to hers, covering her fingers and keeping her from going any further.
“You get into bed and under those covers,” he said. “Your skin is like ice. I’ll start a fire.”
Bree pouted for a moment but had to admit that was an excellent idea. She sauntered over to the bed, slipping off the last of her underthings and crawling beneath the heavy down comforter. It was like slipping into a warm bath. She sighed as she snuggled down into the luxury linens.
Ian quickly went to work building a fire. In only a few minutes the fireplace just beyond the foot of the bed roared with flames. That done, he finished undressing and disappeared into the bathroom. Bree waited patiently, unbraiding her hair and combing her fingers through the blond waves left behind. He returned a moment later with a handful of foil packets.
Bree was surprised to see the physique he hid beneath those bulky sweaters he wore. Back in college, he’d been tall and lean but not particularly athletic in build because he spent most of his time playing guitar. Given that for the past ten years he’d mainly sat at a desk, she’d expected him to have a head start on middle-age spread.
Instead, she was rewarded with a hard, lean body with thick muscles twitching beneath his skin. He had more chest hair now; the dark sprinkle across his pecs narrowed to a trail down his belly. At that point, her cheeks flushed. His desire for her was no secret. Her palms tingled with the need to touch him, but he was just out of her reach.
He paused at the edge of the bed, holding up one of the condoms. “I’m trying to fight the urge to wear three of these at once. I’m feeling a little paranoid. Please don’t take it personally.”
“One is perfectly effective,” Bree said, “as long as the woman in question isn’t after anything but your body.”
Ian’s dark brows went up. “Bree, are you just using me for my body?”
“No,” she said with a sweet shake of her head. “I fully intend to, of course, but at the moment you’re out of reach.”
Ian laughed and tossed the condoms onto the nightstand. “I feel so cheap.” He eased back the blankets and slipped in beside her. His skin was blazing hot as he brushed against her. How was it possible that the man could produce so much body heat?
Bree groaned and pressed the length of her body against him like a nuzzling cat. Ian hissed for a moment when her ice-cold skin touched his, but he was gentlemanly enough not to pull away.
“You’re freezing, Bree.”
She ran her palm over the hard muscles of his chest and leaned in to give him a kiss. “Then warm me up.”
“If you insist.” Smiling, Ian rolled over, pressing her back against the mattress and covering her body with his.
The heat and the weight of him were soothing. When he dipped his head to kiss her, she forgot all about being cold. His touch heated the very blood in her veins, the spreading warmth awakening her long-ignored body’s desires. She relished the slide of his tongue along hers. His every caress was expertly targeted to her most sensitive parts as though the almost decade apart had been just a blink of an eye.
When his thumb brushed over the hard peak of her nipple, Bree gasped. When he sucked it into the warm heat of his mouth, her back arched up off the bed. He was relentless in his assault, teasing her with his teeth and tongue as his hands glided down her hip and dipped between her thighs.
“Ian!” she cried as he made contact with her feminine center. He smothered any other sounds when he kissed her again. His tongue mimicked the movements of his hand, slowly sliding in and out of her mouth. She squirmed beneath him, panting as he drew her ever closer to the edge of her release, again and again, always backing away before she shattered.
Then he reached for the nightstand. Ian sat up to roll the latex sheath over himself, then slipped back between her thighs. He tugged the blankets up over his bare shoulders to keep them in the warm cocoon and then lowered onto his elbows. His mouth found hers again and with a subtle shift of his weight, he was pressing against her entrance. Teasing her. Toying with her despite the need he was responsible for building inside her.
But she’d already waited too long for this moment. Now, she would have it. Bree cradled Ian’s hips between her thighs. Impatiently, she drew up her knees, gripping his hips and drawing him forward. He moved with her and before she knew it, she got what she wanted. Every inch of Ian was buried deep inside of her. The moment was familiar, pleasurable, memorable...perfect. It shouldn’t have been. This wasn’t a reunion. They weren’t getting back together. They were just venting pent-up desires and emotions and frustrations on each other while the snow kept the rest of the world from existing.
But what would happen when the snow melted?
Bree closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. In this moment she didn’t want to let all those worries creep in. She just wanted to enjoy being in Ian’s arms again. Watching him play his guitar and sing last night had built a need in her that only he could soothe.
Ian eased forward and thrust into her a second time with a sharp hiss. Bree rolled her hips, taking in all that she could. Her body strained and flexed around him, her muscles clamping down until he groaned.
“Nice trick,” he said. “But we’re not finishing that quickly.”
Leaning down, he kissed her and started moving at a quicker pace. Eventually, Bree had to tear her lips from his so she could cry out with each pleasurable drive into her.
They fell into an easy rhythm, her hips rising off the bed to meet his every advance. The pleasure easily built up inside her again, this time with more intensity than before. He had toyed with her so much earlier that this release might be one for the record books. She clawed futilely with her short manicured nails at the taut skin stretching across his shoulders. She was trying to find something to hold on to, something to keep her anchored when her orgasm hit like a tsunami.
It was coming. Her whole body tensed, and her mouth fell open into a soft “O.”
“Yes,” Ian coaxed, recognizing the telltale signs of her impending release. “That’s what I want to see. Don’t hold back, Bree. Come apart for me, baby.”
He increased his pace and she hardly had a choice in the matter. In an instant, the dam broke and the waves of pleasure crashed in on her. She gasped, she cried, she thrashed and writhed beneath him. And when it all subsided, her eyes fluttered open to find he’d watched every moment of it.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, looking down at her.
She didn’t feel beautiful. At that moment she felt flushed and sweaty. Her hair was damp and plastered to her skin. Her lips were swollen from kisses and her core was throbbing from good use for the first time in a long time. She wrinkled her nose, smirking dismissively.
“No,” he argued, dipping down to kiss her. “It’s not up for debate. You’re beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen up close.”
At that, Bree laughed and pushed her hair out of her face. “You work in the record industry, Ian. There’s got to be a steady stream of Tiger Beat princesses and sultry songstresses in your social circles.”
“I know. And?”
Bree’s eyes widened and she swallowed hard. How could it be possible that she ranked up there with all the music stars at the Grammys? It was sweet but impossible. She reached up to his face and ran a fingertip down the bridge o
f his nose. “I think we need to get you some glasses, Ian.”
With a growl, he flipped, rolling onto his back with Bree sitting astride him. Bree squealed with the sudden reversal, their bodies never disconnecting. “I don’t need glasses and I’m going to prove it.”
His hands gripped her hips and he started thrusting into her from underneath. Bree braced her hands on the padded leather headboard and moved with him. His eyes never left her face and in mere seconds, his jaw was tight and his fingertips were pressing insistently into the flesh of her hips.
If he wanted to watch her, she’d give him something to watch. Bree arched her back, running her fingers through her hair and thrusting her breasts out.
“Just watching you move like that...” He half spoke, half groaned, his words interrupted by the powerful rush of his release. She rode out the storm, finally collapsing onto the mattress beside him in a state of physical, mental and emotional exhaustion.
Ian scooped her into his arms and pulled her back against the hard wall of his chest. “Beautiful,” he whispered, planting a kiss on her bare shoulder as they both drifted off to sleep.
Seven
“Aha!”
Ian poked his head out of the closet, the Monopoly game clutched under his arm. “Aha?”
Bree was in the kitchen, her back to him. She turned toward him and held up a handful of full-size candy bars. “You’ve been holding out on me, Ian Lawson. I found your secret stash!”
He laughed, shut the closet door and carried the game into the living room. “It’s not a secret stash. It’s an emergency stockpile. Are you telling me you don’t have a kitchen drawer filled with candy at your house?”
Bree planted a hand on her hip. “Uh, no. I use my drawers for utensils and towels. Normal stuff.”
“That’s because you don’t have Patty grocery shopping for you. She makes it her personal mission to keep me happy by buying me treats even when I don’t ask. She may have gone overboard this time considering I’d requested a bunch of healthy food this weekend for Missy. She probably thought I’d starve up here.”
Snowed In with Her Ex Page 8
