Snowbound

by CJ Martín

  Fuck. That’s exactly what I want to do. I swallow a quiet laugh at the irony of his words. With sudden clarity I realize what he’s saying. He’s trying to let me down gently. He’s attracted to me—that much I know. But he’s not willing to take it to the next level. He doesn’t want a relationship with me. Not now. Not ever.

  I pull away from him as the pain of his rejection washes over me. “Friends? And what happened with JJ?” I say aloud, but it’s more of a question to myself.

  “I know.” He grits out the words. “I lost my temper before. It won't happen again.”

  I back further away from him in order to put some much-needed distance between us. “You can't have it both ways, Anders. You do whatever, or should I say whoever, you want. Have I ever once interfered?” His exasperated expression is all the answer I need. “Exactly.” I continue on my rant. “I didn’t—don’t, because we are friends.” I throw his word back at him.

  He crosses his arms over his chest on the defensive. “Tom will use you.”

  I raise my eyebrows at him. Is he seriously going to play that card? He hooks up with girls all the time, which is basically a nicer way of saying he uses them.

  “You don't know him like I do.” His voice is heated, his jaw clenched.

  I glare at him. “Kinda like how you were gonna use Tamara?”

  “That's different.” He bites out as his patience wears thin.

  “Not really. Anders, you’re supposed to be my friend. You should be happy for me, happy that I’m making friends and finding my place here. Did you ever think that I might actually like Tom?”

  His mouth opens in surprise, but he quickly closes it. He blows out a cool breath, but before he can say anything I go on. “I’m sorry, but you don't get a say in who I can or can't date.”

  He nods his head almost imperceptibly.

  “So we good?” I ask, faking bravery. I’m a mess of emotions right now. I feel anything but good. I don’t want Tom. I want Anders. I may be falling in love with him. But I don’t say any of this, because he’s made it quite clear that he’s not interested in dating me. And I can’t bear to be just another notch on his bedpost.

  “Yeah,” he mumbles. He looks down at the ground, avoiding my gaze.

  “Good.” I turn toward the door. “I’m gonna head back out. Thanks for the shirt.” I shrug it off and hand it back to him. “See ya around. Or not. Your call.”

  My hand is on the doorknob, and I’m about to exit when I hear Anders mutter, “Fuck it.”

  Moments later I feel his grip on my right wrist and he spins me around to face him. My gaze meets his. His eyes are smoldering and I’m about to say something, anything, when his mouth crashes down on mine.

  This is a mistake.

  I can’t give her what she deserves.

  This will fuck everything up.

  I’m just a man.

  The temptation is too great.

  I cannot resist.

  His kiss is rough and possessive, almost as if he’s unleashing every emotion into me. I feel it all—his frustration, his anger, his sadness, his desire. He pushes into me and my back flattens against the door. His hands move around my waist, drawing me nearer, and they remain there anchoring me to him. Reflexively, I loop my arms around his neck.

  “Elena.” He breathes as he pulls away from me. There’s not even a moment to mourn the loss, because his lips find my neck. His hands roam over my body and I hold his forearms to support myself. I’m shaking uncontrollably.

  “Anders.” My voice doesn’t sound at all like my own. It slips out like a breathy moan.

  His eyes meet mine. “You are so fucking beautiful.” He dips his head and begins to trail kisses along my chest. I can’t hide my body’s reaction from him. My nipples form stiff peaks beneath the flimsy material of my bikini top. He licks along the edge of my top and I shiver. He continues planting kisses over the fabric and when his mouth closes over my nipple I cry out.

  His mouth is back on mine almost instantly, swallowing my soft moans. He pushes flat against me and his erection, hard and thick, strains against my belly. He begins working his way down and I grab onto his hand just as it grazes the top of my bikini bottom.

  We look into each other’s eyes and I’m overwhelmed with what I see. Pure need. Pure desire. Pure want. I’ve no doubt that my eyes reflect the same.

  For everything I feel, for all that I want, there is still a tiny part of my brain functioning that’s terrified. He just said five minutes before that we were friends. Is this just a hookup? Can I accept this for what it is? Am I really going to lose my virginity in a locker room?

  “Elena.” His voice brings me back to the present. “Let me touch you.” I’m still processing his words when he says, “Please.”

  That look from him, that same look that always mesmerizes me, takes hold of me and I won’t say no. I’ll take him whichever way I can.

  I curl my fingers around his and guide his hand down between my legs. My nervous eyes find his. I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. All I know is that I want him, need him, to touch me now.

  “You sure?” he asks, even as he begins to move his hand over me.

  I don’t chance words so I simply nod. My head dips back and rests against the door and my eyes drift close. He continues to rub his fingers over me gently. When they graze underneath my bikini bottom my eyes fly open.

  “Is this okay?” He chokes out.

  “Yes,” I say, but it turns into a moan as his fingers graze my clit. They move farther down, sliding over my opening. I experience a brief moment of embarrassment when I realize he can feel how wet I am, but it’s quickly replaced by the sensation of his fingers.

  He gently slips a finger inside me, and my muscles spasm around the intrusion. “Fuck.” He growls. “You’re so tight.”

  He slowly pumps his finger in and out of me while using his thumb to work my clit. My senses are assaulted, overwhelmed, and I’ve never felt anything quite so exquisite. He tentatively pushes a second finger inside and I stretch around him.

  “Anders.” I moan again as the heat builds, and I’m close to falling. When I open my eyes I find that he is staring at me intently, studying my facial expressions, almost as if he’s committing me to memory. It’s a little bit disconcerting.

  “Elena.” He breathes my name as he dips his head to kiss along my neck and jaw. His lips find my ear. “Baby, let go,” he whispers, thrusting his fingers just a little bit faster, his thumb never leaving my clit.

  My palms press against the door as the sensation builds in my body. When Anders’s lips find my breast again, I shatter. I cry out as I pulse around him, the waves of pleasure permeating my entire being. The sensations thrum through my body and its several long minutes until I finally come back down to Earth. A lazy grin forms on my lips.

  Fuck. Is this what I’ve been missing? I mean, yeah, I’ve given myself plenty of orgasms over the years, but none have ever been this… epic.

  Anders slips his fingers out and he weaves his arms around my waist. I melt into him, my body sagging against him like dead weight. He places a soft kiss on my forehead.

  “You okay?” he asks quietly.

  “Mmmhmmm.”

  He chuckles softly. “I take it you enjoyed that?”

  “Mmmhmmm,” I murmur again. I’m unable to form words. I’m calm. I’m content. I’m floating.

  “Gigs,” he whispers against my ear. “Has anyone ever touched you like that before?”

  I shake my head against him. “Just me.” My voice is so quiet, I don’t think he could’ve heard.

  I hear a sharp intake of breath, then, “Christ.”

  A nervous giggle escapes my lips and is muffled by his chest.

  He pulls away from me, holding me at arm’s length so he can look into my eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His eyes look pained.

  “Anders, do I look hurt?” I can already see the remorse darkening his eyes. He regrets this. And all I can think about is
him touching me again. And me touching him.

  “No,” he says after a moment’s hesitation. “You look beautiful.”

  I flush at the compliment and quickly look away. So what happens now? I’ve never hooked up before. Should I reciprocate? Should we shake hands? This is all so awkward.

  “Should I…?” My voice trails off at the end but I know he realizes my intention when he watches my eyes draw down his body and land on his crotch.

  His eyes widen as I step closer and place my hand over him. I’m nervous and my touch is feather light. Not sure he can even feel it, I brush over him tentatively.

  “Gigs.” He clips. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  I keep my gaze on the bulge straining against his jeans and brush up him again.

  “Fuck.” He groans, he actually groans, and the sound causes warmth to flow down to my center. I wrap my fingers a little more snugly against him and his breath catches in his throat.

  I begin to pump my hand slowly. Anders’s head drops down, his gaze on my hand as I glide it over him. I increase the pressure and quicken the pace. His fingers dig into my hips and he moans in approval.

  Gaining confidence, I use both hands to pop the button on his jeans and drag his zipper down. I’m about to reach for him, a second away from feeling him hot and hard, when his body goes rigid.

  “Stop.” His arms fly out and his hands rest on mine to guide me away from him. “No more.” His breathing is ragged and his face is a little flushed.

  “Am I doing it wrong?” I ask, my voice unsure.

  “What? God no,” he says, this time his voice a little bit more controlled.

  “I don’t understand.” I drop my hands restlessly along my body.

  “Gigs, it’s better that we stop this now before anything”—his eyes sweep over my body longingly—“else happens.”

  “What? You get to touch me but I can’t touch you?” The rejection stings. “You’re not attracted to me?”

  “Clearly that’s not the case.” He gestures to his massive hard-on. He takes a deep breath. “Look, obviously we’re attracted to one another.” His blue eyes bore into mine. “But your friendship is important to me. We both know that this leads nowhere.”

  The absolute certainty with which he speaks the words, shakes me to the core. I guess I have been holding out hope that Anders would realize that he wanted to be with me. That I could make him change. That I was special. How very foolish of me.

  So I do the only thing I can do and plaster a fake smile on my face. “You’re right.” I agree, my voice possessing a sickening sweet undertone. “We don’t want to mess up our friendship. This was just a heat of the moment thing.”

  It kills me to speak the words. I just had the best orgasm of my life. I’ve never felt closer to Anders, but it means nothing to him. Inside I’m freaking the fuck out, wondering how I’m going to live with him while I finish out my internship. How I’m going to deal with my feelings for him.

  He breathes out, clearly relieved. “Thank God.” His voice is quiet. “I can’t lose you, Gigs.”

  “You won’t.” I offer him my reassurance, but I’m already retreating into myself, pulling away. All I can think is that things will never be the same between us, because my heart will not be the same.

  My life sucks.

  Things with JJ are not the greatest. Before he went back to Boulder we talked, but not much. He tried to bring up Gigs. After everything, he still thinks I should tell Gigs how I feel. Make a romantic gesture. That it’s fate. I swear he’s worse than a chick, and if it weren’t for the fact that I showered with the dude in the locker room more times than I can count, I would seriously doubt that he had balls. Right before he left, he advised me one last time. “Tell her.”

  I told him to go fuck himself. So, overall I think that went well.

  For as much as I played it off with JJ, she is on my mind constantly. I can’t help myself. I knew better. I fucking knew better. One taste of her wasn’t going to be enough. My body burns for her. Craves her.

  I have never hooked up and not gotten off. And I stopped her. I fucking stopped her.

  I still don't know why I did that. I think more than anything I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop myself if I let her touch me. And having sex with her? That was mostly definitely not an option. That was a minefield I wasn’t willing to navigate.

  I tried to convince myself that feeling her just one time would be enough. I could allow myself this one indulgence and then move on. But the opposite was true. I’m really beginning to worry because not even boarding the backcountry provides me any respite.

  I’ve become slightly obsessed with the memory of her reaching for me as she unbuttoned my jeans. Her doe-eyed expression when she bit on her lower lip and looked up at me? I get hard just thinking about it. And her sounds? The breathy way she moaned my name? I can’t even go there. Let's just say I’ve gotten well acquainted with my hand.

  The knowledge that I could pound into a random chick or at least get a blowjob should bring me some comfort—but it doesn’t. The thought repulses me. I don't want any girl. I want Gigs. I’m fucking furious with her for having ruined me for all other girls. What the actual fuck am I going to do?

  Apart from the whole “I wanna fuck Gigs” situation, everything else between us seems somewhat back to normal.

  Our conversation from a few days ago, though tense, wasn’t as uncomfortable as I’d imagined it would be. But the sadness in her eyes as she approached me is still fresh in my memory. The hesitancy in her voice still rings loud in my ears.

  “Anders, maybe it’s for the best I move out.”

  “What?” I anticipated this possibility but am no less surprised when she suggests it. Our living agreement was always meant to be temporary, but I’m not ready for it to be over. Not yet.

  “It’s just that…” Her voice trails off. “…with everything that happened.”

  “Gigs.” I reassure her. “We can still be friends. We are friends.”

  “I know. But things might get complicated, feelings hurt.”

  I know exactly what she means. Feelings hurt. If she continues to date Tom, our living arrangement will turn into a fucking nightmare. And even though I never brought a girl home, not so much as even mentioned another girl, I see the question in her eyes. Would she be able to handle it?

  I know I couldn’t.

  “Erika has a spare bedroom.” Her eyes dance around the room, avoiding my gaze. “She said I could stay there as long as I need. I’d just have to throw in a couple of bucks toward the rent.”

  “You already discussed this with her?” I’m so taken aback that pausing to filter my thoughts isn’t an option. I pace back and forth. “You’re really serious about this?”

  She shrugs in apathy. “I thought you’d be happy. I mean, the past week hasn’t exactly been great. You’ve been staying with JJ; that’s not fair to you.”

  I approach her, rest my hands on her shoulders, our first contact since I had my hands on her, inside her in the locker room. Fuck. Her body shivers at my touch, almost as if her mind is replaying the same memories as mine. And the way she pulls her lower lip between her teeth – Christ, she definitely is.

  “I don’t want you to leave.” My voice sounds vulnerable even to my own ears. I clear my throat, and say more firmly, “I want you to stay.”

  Her eyes, big and wide, find mine. “You do?”

  I nod, keeping my expression neutral.

  “But why?”

  “I just do.”

  “Anders, I think…” She argues again.

  I blow out a forceful breath as my patience wears thin. What else does this girl want? A declaration signed in blood?

  “Look,” I squeeze her shoulders again. “I said you can stay here. You can stay here. We’ll make it work. Besides, it’s only for another three months.”

  Her hands rest atop mine on her shoulders. Her slim fingers, warm and soft against my skin, cause my pulse
to spike. Her eyes penetrate mine, seeking answers, seeking understanding.

  I know she still isn’t fully convinced, but after several moments she agrees. “All right.” Her voice is hesitant, unsure. “I’ll stay.”

  Not the most ecstatic agreement, but an agreement nonetheless.

  Our words turn over in my mind, circling round and round until they no longer make sense. The beginning and end blur until all that’s left is our time together. Our limited time together.

  Three months. That’s a depressing thought. I’ve gotten so used to having her around, I haven’t given myself a chance to think about what it’ll be like when she goes back to North Carolina. Soon I’ll be back in Boulder full time, and although it’s close, I won’t be able to have her in my bed every night. It’s a perverse pleasure, having her right beside me, but yet so far. Untouchable.

  My review hearing with the SSC is fast approaching. I still haven’t told Gigs the entire story. I can’t stand the thought of disappointing her. But she will find out sooner or later. It’s inevitable. I can’t keep skirting the issue.

  My phone buzzing in my pocket startles me from my reverie. I pull it out and check the name. Mom. I’m about to send her call to voicemail but at the last second decide to take it. I sent her last three calls to voicemail and still haven’t called her back, a fact that I have no doubt she will remind me.

  “Hello.” I keep my voice casual.

  “Oh My God. I can’t believe it. My son answered his phone.” Here we go.

  “Hi Mom,” I say sweetly.

  “Don’t you ‘Hi Mom’ me. We haven’t heard from you in weeks, Anders. I’ve been worried sick.”

  “Mom, you know exactly where I am. And you know how busy this time of year is for me.”

  “Apparently it’s busier than ever,” she says dryly.

  “So what’s new? How’s Dad?”

  “Fine, fine. So, Brit tells us you’re shacking up with some gold digger.”

  What the fuck?

  “Who I live with is none of her concern or yours for that matter.” I work desperately to keep the anger from my voice, but it rings out clear as day.