by Amy Brent
“You mentioned you had a laptop. Can I borrow it?” I asked hopefully.
He grimaced. “It is dead. I don’t use it often. I haven’t charged it in a while.”
My shoulders drooped, “Oh.”
“I’m sorry. I can charge it with the generator the next time I turn it on,” he offered.
“That’s okay. Thanks, anyway.”
“Sorry. Really, just, uh, make yourself at home.”
I watched as he whistled for the dog and headed out into the snowy weather. I moved to look out the kitchen window. It was absolutely gorgeous outside. It looked like a scene from a Hallmark Christmas movie.
That gave me an idea. While a laptop would have been nice, I could still jot down some ideas. I dug out the notebook I had borrowed from Jake and started writing. I wanted to get the snowy scene just right. If it wasn’t so damn cold and I had proper attire, I would have gone out on the front porch to really experience the scenery. For now, the kitchen window would have to do.
A blast of cold air snapped me out of the writing trance I had easily fallen into.
“Are you done?” I asked hopefully.
“No. Casper’s coming in and I need my other gloves.”
He wasn’t being overly rude or even quite as abrupt as earlier, but I could feel the wall between us. He wanted me on one side and him on the other. He was being polite to the point of cold and aloof.
“Are you sure I can’t help you at all?”
“Calla, have you shoveled a lot of walkways or chopped a lot of wood?” he asked, in a somewhat joking manner.
I shook my head. “No, I guess not.”
“Trust me. I can do this. Relax and enjoy a break from your everyday life. There is really nothing for you to do. If I need help, I’ll ask.”
I groaned in frustration. “Fine. I can take care of any inside chores you need doing.”
He looked like he would say no again, but then he finally caved in. “Fill up those empty jugs with water. There are a couple of large pots in that cupboard you can fill with water as well. I need to shut off the generator, which will shut off the pump.”
I smiled and was practically giddy with the idea that I had an important job to do. “Got it! Anything else?”
“No.”
I put down the pen and notebook and waltzed into the kitchen. I turned to see him watching me from the doorway.
“Something else?” I asked hopefully.
There was a strange look on his face. I waited. The moment was over as quickly as it had arrived. He pulled up his scarf, covering his mouth and walked outside.
I used the remaining water from one of the jugs to fill a small pot, which I placed on the stove to heat. Then, I quickly filled the other pots I found, along with the empty jugs. An eerie quiet settled over the house and I realized it was due to the generator being shut off.
I hadn’t realized how quiet it was up on Jake’s mountain until now. It was absolutely peaceful. That little detail was going in my notes.
“Okay, now what?” I said, hands on hips and looking around the house.
My eyes landed on the heap of food on the kitchen table. I looked at the packages of meat, realized they needed to thaw and put those in the sink. I did what I could to neatly pile the carrots, onions and potatoes he had brought in.
I glanced out the window and caught a glimpse of the dog frolicking in the snow. It was a heartwarming scene. Casper was hopping around Jake as Jake pushed a shovel through the snow, creating a path to what I assumed was a shed of some kind.
That was it. I couldn’t stay cooped up in the cabin another minute. I pulled on my dry snow pants and jacket. My boots were still a little damp, but the wool socks Jake had lent me kept my feet warm. I grabbed the notebook and headed out the door, leaving my gloves on the floor in front of the woodstove. I wanted to write and couldn’t maneuver the pen with the clunky things on.
I walked outside, the cold air taking me a little by surprise.
“Whew!” I said, blinking away the cold from my eyes.
“What are you doing?” Jake asked, looking up from the shoveling.
“I wanted some fresh air.”
“It’s cold.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I won’t be out long, plus I’m warm.”
“Suit yourself,” he mumbled through his scarf as he went back to work.
I looked to my left and nearly hooted with glee when I saw a wooden rocking chair. It was too good to be true. I sat down, opened the notebook and started writing.
My thoughts drifted from what I was describing to the man I was describing. Jake had many sides. I longed for the man I had for five minutes last night. That was only one part of him. There was the man who had made me coffee and oatmeal. Then there was the angry man who wished me away and then there was the man I saw before me. He was in his element doing serious manual labor, his faithful dog by his side.
As I watched him shovel, I wondered if he had PTSD. I had interviewed several vets of all different ages and many of them suffered from PTSD. It looked a little different in each of them, but the underlying symptoms were generally the same. I had a feeling it was what drove him to live out here, far away from the civilized world.
I knew better than to ask him about his reasons for living alone, or his time in the war. I would have to settle for the mystery man.
Just then, he stopped shoveling and looked up at me. His blue-eyed gaze meeting mine. I found myself holding my breath. His eyes said more than his mouth ever would. I could see lust. I knew he wanted me, but for some really, really stupid reason, he was denying himself.
He broke the eye contact first and went back to shoveling. Casper bounded up the steps and came to stand beside me.
“Can you let him in?” I heard Jake’s muffled voice.
“Yep.”
“Come on, boy. Have you had enough snow play?”
The dog raced for the door and patiently waited for me to open it. I followed him inside, remembering I had put water on the stove to heat. After stripping off my snow gear and hanging it back up on the hooks, I carried the water to the kitchen sink.
“I bet he likes coffee all day, huh?” I asked the dog who was turning in circles in front of the woodstove. “Let’s make him some coffee for when he comes in.”
The dog could care less. He had settled in for a nap. I remembered where Jake had stowed the coffee and dug it out of the cupboard. I had never actually used that kind of old-fashioned coffee pot, but figured it couldn’t be all that hard.
“I hope this works,” I said, putting the pot on the stove like I had seen him do.
Then it was time to wash the few dishes in the sink. As I washed, I found myself humming and dancing. I was actually enjoying myself! I looked out the window and let my imagination carry me away to a life I had never thought I would want.
Jake had finished shoveling and was now carrying armloads of firewood from the shed to the porch. I watched as he lugged what looked to be a heavy ax to an old stump. Then it was more logs. He dropped the logs on the snow, stood one up on the stump and swung the ax.
“Wow,” I muttered, completely turned on by the rather mundane chore.
I had never realized how hot wood chopping could be. If only the man had been shirtless. I would have killed to see his bare chest and those huge biceps flexing with each swing. As he hit the log with the ax, a lovely sensation rocked my pussy. I imagined all that force pounding against me. I jerked as he hit the log again.
“Holy shit,” I whispered as I felt myself grow wet. “You’ve got it bad, Calla.”
My hands were in the warm water, but I couldn’t move or concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing. I was mesmerized by the show outside. I wanted to cum. I could feel it. A few more whacks and I would orgasm.
When he stopped and carried the axe back to the woodshed, I almost cried.
“No! Not yet. A little more, please,” I moaned in frustration.
Chapter Thirteen
> Jake
My arms felt like Jell-O. I had been working for hours, shoveling snow and chopping wood, hoping to relieve the sexual frustration Calla had stirred up, but it was still there. The image of her hips swaying and her breasts bouncing unrestrained was forever burned into my brain. No matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t get those images out of my head.
I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted another woman. I’d been warring with myself about just taking her and satisfying my lust. But I couldn’t do it. I was too afraid she would want more and I couldn’t give her more. She was a beautiful woman who deserved it all—the total package. I was incapable of giving her anything more than a good fuck.
My body was spent, which had been the goal. I didn’t think I could fuck her right now if I tried. Exhausted, I climbed the steps and pushed open the door, only to find her leaning on the kitchen counter, writing. Her butt was swaying back and forth as she hummed another unidentified song.
Fuck. She was going to kill me. I was going to die of an unrelieved erection. I could take her right there. Sprawl her out on the kitchen counter, feast on her pussy and then fuck her.
“Hey,” she said, looking up at me as if she hadn’t heard me come in the door.
“Hi,” I managed to get out.
“Let me help you,” she said, dropping the pen and walking towards me, her hips doing that familiar sway.
She wasn’t wearing the sweater I had loaned her. The t-shirt didn’t hide the shape of her breasts in any way. The cotton clung to her breasts, her nipples obvious.
“No,” I stammered. “I got it,” I held up a hand.
“What?”
“I’m not done!” I practically shouted before heading right back out the door.
I couldn’t go back in there. Not yet. I needed to work off more energy. If I took her right now, there would be no holding back. I stomped through the snow and into the woodshed. I would start pulling the snow off the roof of the cabin and the out buildings. That would keep me busy. It was a task that needed done.
I grabbed the roof rake and headed back towards the cabin. I guesstimated we were pushing three feet of snow on the ground. That was way too much for any roof to hold, no matter the pitch. As I looked at what should be my driveway, I shook my head in disgust.
“They’re not coming tomorrow, Jake,” I told myself, as if I needed to hear the words rather than think them.
The snow would be heavier up the mountain where the lodge was. They had more equipment, but they would be focused on keeping their guests safe. Tom knew me. He trusted me to keep the woman safe. Calla was not going to be their priority.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I shouted up at the sky. “Stop fucking snowing!”
My face was covered in snow, a clear sign my demand was ignored. I had seen this kind of storm before. It could snow for days without letting up. The only thing to do was try and keep up with it. I hadn’t done that. I had been too busy saving Calla’s ass and now, she was stuck.
“Is everything okay?” Calla asked, stepping onto the porch.
“Yes, fine, but this snow isn’t stopping.”
“I can see that. How deep do you think it is?”
I looked at the area I hadn’t shoveled. “Three feet?”
“Oh God, I’ve never seen this much snow in my life. Is this normal?”
I scoffed, “Normal? I don’t know if it’s normal, but it happens.”
“Well, I know it’s not ideal, but it is absolutely gorgeous,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.
I turned to look around. It truly was. As much as I hated the extra work, I loved it.
“You know this may mean you’re stuck here another day?” I asked her, watching to gauge her reaction.
“What? Really? Don’t they have snowmobiles?”
I nodded. “Yes, but they can’t just set off in this kind of weather. It’s too dangerous. They’ve got their hands full already just keeping the guests fed and making sure everyone is okay.”
“Oh wow. I guess I just assumed they could whip down here, pick me up and take me back.”
“Sorry,” I quipped.
She shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. I got myself into this mess.”
I wanted to agree with her, but thought twice about it. I was trying to be decent. Despite my frustration, I didn’t want her to think I was a total asshole. I didn’t think I normally was, but she had brought out my cranky side last night when I had to leave my warm house to go find her with the pressure of not knowing if we’d make it in time. And the attraction thing, holy cow, what were the odds? Nonetheless, she had done nothing to me and didn’t deserve my anger. I could rein it in.
“I’ve got to get the snow off the roof so stay inside. You’ll hear some loud bangs as it slides off,” I warned her. “Can you put some wood on the fire?”
“Sure. I made you some coffee. Can I get you a cup?”
The simple offer was unexpected. It touched me in a way I hadn’t expected. It was too homey. Too girlfriend, or wife-like. It scared the shit out of me.
“Later,” I grumbled and walked away, roof rake in hand.
Being rude hadn’t been my intent, but I didn’t want to get used to have a little woman in the house, keeping the home fires burning. That was more terrifying than the thought of a grizzly bear coming out of the trees.
I pushed the image of Calla making me a hot dinner in nothing more than her birthday suit from my mind. There were plenty of other fantasies that followed that one as I started the tedious, often wet process of extending the rake up and pulling the snow down, jumping out of the way as it slid down in heavy berms.
“Here,” her voice startled me.
I looked over to see her standing on the edge of the porch with what I assumed was hot coffee. I could see the steam rising from the cup.
I considered telling her I didn’t want it, but I did. I needed the fuel.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the cup and sipping the hot liquid.
I blinked as the stout coffee hit my tongue and rolled down my throat.
“Too strong?” she asked with a concerned look.
I coughed and blinked away the tears the coffee had caused. “Nope, perfect,” I lied.
After a few more drinks I handed the cup back. If I drank any more, I was going to find myself digging a tunnel through the snow all the way down the mountain. It was very potent.
“Thank you,” I said, and turned to walk back to my position at the edge of the roof. She smiled and headed back inside.
It had been a very kind, thoughtful gesture and I realized I could get used to someone doing things like that. Making me a warm dinner and making sure I was taken care of in general. That thought led to sex. How could it not? For a split second, I let myself think about coming home to a woman after a long day hunting or working at the lodge. Not just any woman, Calla.
Instead of dwelling on a naked Calla, bent over the back of the couch, laid out on the kitchen counter or pushed up against a wall, I concentrated on pulling the snow down the roof. By the time I finished the two outbuildings and the cabin, I was beyond exhausted. I had pushed myself to a point that assured me I would not be lusting after the hot little redhead in my house. I would be lucky to get my dick hard. Her coffee boost had given me a burst of energy, which had been great at the time, but I was feeling the pain of my exertion now.
I was too tired to move, let alone screw. Thank God. I had finally exorcised the demon.
When I walked through the front door, the house was absolutely quiet. She wasn’t in the kitchen humming and swaying. I didn’t see her on the couch. Maybe she had gone in my bedroom? I took off my coat and snow pants, kicked off my boots by the door and noticed immediately that the fire was burning low.
She could have at least put a damn log on the fire.
I stomped towards the stove, opened the door to put on a log and froze when I heard a strange whimpering sound. I turned around and found my house guest. She was
asleep on the couch. Her arm twitched, and her mouth opened, a low moaning sound crossing her lips.
I slowly stood, not wanting to make a sound. The blanket she was using was wadded up against the back of the couch, leaving her torso exposed. The overly big t-shirt of mine was twisted and pulled up her side. My gaze focused on the wide swath of milky-white skin that was exposed. I waited, silently pleading with her to move her arm up a fraction of an inch. I could see the round flush of her breast under the arm she had thrown across her chest. I was hoping for a peek at the entire breast.
As I watched, another moan escaped her mouth and her leg moved. The blanket twisted between her thighs as she rubbed them together. The arm over her chest flopped to the side, hanging off the couch. Her other hand moved to her bared stomach. The shirt was dangerously high, but not high enough. My earlier revelation that I would be unable to get an erection was long forgotten. My dick was straining against the jeans I had put on. I reached down and rubbed my cock while I stared at her hard nipples creasing the fabric stretched across her breasts.
I couldn’t breathe as I watched the woman writhe on my couch. She had to be in the middle of what looked to be a really hot dream. Her leg fell open for a split second before clamping against the other leg pressed against the back of the couch. When her head rolled back and forth against the pillow, her lips parted, I had to close my eyes.
“Don’t do it, Jake,” I whispered, warning myself to walk away.
I counted to five, but then I heard what I thought was my name. My eyes popped open, expecting to see her staring back at me. She was still asleep. Her eyes were closed when she mumbled something that I was absolutely sure was my name. She was dreaming about me.
My name on her lips was too much. I couldn’t deny myself or her another second. Fuck my self-control. Fuck the idea of commitment. All I wanted in that moment was to bury my cock inside that lush body. I would deal with the consequences later.
Chapter Fourteen
Calla
My body felt like it was on fire. Jake was teasing me to the point of agony. I could feel him pressing against me, but he wouldn’t enter. I pleaded and begged, but the man wouldn’t give me what I wanted.
