Silk Stocking Inn: The Complete Series

by Oliver, Tess

  5

  Holt was standing next to his snowmobile looking every bit a fantasy. He held up my phone. "Thought you might need this."

  I looked over at my poor little car. Something definitely looked amiss with the front end.

  I zipped up my coat and pulled my beanie low over my long hair. My gloves were hardly enough to keep my fingers warm as I trudged through the snow to my waiting knight in shining leather. Fucking magnificent. It was the only phrase that popped into my head when I looked at the man. And I could only imagine how magnificently he fucked too. Even in the icy air, a blush warmed my cheeks as that little play on words flashed through my head. I'd obviously had one too many erotic daydreams about the character on my computer screen.

  I stopped and waited for Holt to climb on, but instead, he stepped forward and stopped right in front of me. I considered myself to be tall for a woman, but I found myself staring right at his throat. A few tendrils of black ink outlined his Adam's apple, and I wondered what it might be like to run my lips along his neck.

  Holt reached up and pulled the beanie down lower over my ears, then took hold of my wrists. He lifted my hands and looked down at my gloves. "Those are not going to keep your fingers warm."

  "I noticed."

  "That's all right. You can shove your hands in my coat pockets for the ride." A smile tilted his mouth. "Unless you plan on hanging onto the seat instead," he teased.

  "No. Besides, we only knew each other a few minutes the first time I rode with you. Now we've known each other for a good hour.

  "So I'm not a stranger anymore."

  I shook my head. "Nope."

  His green eyes looked pale in the fading daylight. The dark brows and beard stubble reminded me so much of the game character, I had to take a breath to remind myself that this was all real.

  "Actually, you're not a stranger at all because I feel like I've known you for a long time," I said the words so lightly it seemed they might just drift away on the falling snowflakes.

  His expression should have been one of confusion, but instead, that glimmer of a smile returned. "I feel the same way about you, Jen." He climbed on the snowmobile.

  I threw my leg over. This time, instead of gripping the seat, I leaned forward and pressed my body against his. He was like an impenetrable wall of steel. The idea of being wrapped in his powerful arms made me lightheaded.

  I rested my hands against his sides as he started the motor. Once it roared to life, he reached back, took hold of my hands and pulled me forward so that my breasts rubbed against his back and my face could rest against his shoulders. He pushed my hands into the pockets of his coat.

  "Hold on, snow angel."

  6

  The gas station was open but there were no customers. Holt rolled into the parking lot. A man with glasses and a blue beanie waved from his window in the kiosk before returning to the book in his hand.

  The machine slid over ice to a place near the air pump. Holt turned off the motor. “This is the best place for a phone call.”

  I climbed off and pulled the phone out of my pocket. It was dead as a rock. "What the hell? But that's impossible, I just charged it. And there I am again saying 'that's impossible' when clearly it isn't."

  I glanced around at the landscape. It looked surreal, covered in crystal white with the looming trees transforming into tall, shadowy beasts with many arms in the fading light. I had never seen any of it before, yet I'd traveled up the same mountain highway at least a dozen times. Even the peaks, mountain tips that were always part of the view from my apartment, were gone, as if they'd simply sunk back into the earth. Tears burned my eyes but stopped short of falling, mostly due to the icy air, which was slowly chilling me to the bone.

  "Hey, are you all right?" Holt's deep voice pulled me from my sudden state of melancholy.

  "Sure thing." I shook my head. "No, not really. I'm lost. I was heading up a mountain to a weekend with friends, and suddenly, I'm here. I have no idea where here is. Nothing looks familiar. It's like I dropped into some alien planet landscape." A slightly hysterical laugh popped from my mouth instead of the sob I had welling up inside of me. "My job is to create video game graphics. Maybe I just spend so much time in gaming worlds, creating creatures and landscapes, that I've lost my mind." The sob followed.

  Holt moved closer. Without a second thought, I pressed myself into his arms. "You haven't lost your mind." His deep voice and strong arms warmed me. "You've just lost your way a little. We'll get you back to the warm inn, and you'll feel better."

  I was still lost in an unexplained place and standing in the arms of a stranger, albeit a particularly beautiful stranger, but his simple words provided some comfort that I was going to come out of this fine. It could have been the arms too. They were really something. They made Stan's thin arms feel like wet spaghetti. And that analogy produced a laugh.

  Holt leaned back to look at me. "See, you're feeling better already. Want to let me in on the joke?"

  "Nope, just know this. You've got a great pair of arms."

  "Do I?" His smiles never fully formed, but the cocky tilt of his lip was just one more thing that reminded me of my game hero. "Well then, let me tell you that I'm enjoying the hell out of having them wrapped around you." He lowered his mouth. I closed my eyes for a kiss that I was sure would exceed any other kiss I'd ever had. But it never came.

  "I better get you home, Jen. Your lips are turning blue."

  I could think of at least one way to warm them, but, it seemed that moment had sadly passed. He was right though. My bargain priced snow gear was no match for the icy weather. My limbs were starting to tingle, and I was struggling to keep my chin from trembling. Of course, all of those were symptoms that could have been brought on by Holt's near kiss too. Either way, I needed to get back to the inn.

  We climbed back on the snowmobile, but before we started off on our icy ride, Holt pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Hey, my phone has reception. I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier. You could try and call your friend. Might make you feel better if you can at least let her know where you are. Or him?" he asked with a definite questioning tone.

  "It's a her. My best friend Tanya would be the only person worrying about me. It's worth a try." It took me a moment to remember her number. "Jeez, that's the problem with the contact list. I can't remember anyone's number."

  I pulled off my glove and slid my numb fingers over the keyboard. It rang several times and went to voicemail. "Hey, Tanya, it's me Jen. Just didn't want you to worry. I'm fine but I won't make it to the lodge. Car trouble. A friend lent me his phone because I'm having phone trouble as well. I'll see you Monday with lots to talk about. Be safe on the slopes. Bye."

  7

  Perfumy bubbles billowed in the tub as I pulled off my snow boots and winter clothes. I piled them neatly in the corner. Even with fragrant steam filling the bathroom, the chill in the air coaxed me to pull on the silky robe Coco had hung in the closet. It was a shimmery pale pink and I had to admit, it went nicely with my olive complexion and brunette hair, almost as if Coco had planned it that way. Which, at this point, would not be the least bit surprising.

  Through the bathroom door and the roar of the water, I heard a knock on the bedroom door. "Coming, Coco." I clamped shut the robe and hurried through the bedroom. I swung open the door. It was not Coco.

  "Holt," I said on a stunned breath. I clasped together the top of the robe but it hardly mattered. The shimmery, thin fabric clung to every inch of me, giving my unexpected visitor a good image of me naked, only wrapped in pink silk. And he wasn't missing one curve.

  He tilted his head slightly to the side and boldly looked at me from head to toe. "That answers the mystery of what was hiding beneath that down filled coat and snow pants. Nice."

  I tried to act miffed and even added in a chin lift, but it was hard because he was so much that man I'd been dreaming about. And not in my regular, old weird dressing the neighbor's cat in my sweater and jumping i
nto a vat of butter type of dream. The full on sex dreams where I woke up flushed and wanting to fall back asleep for more.

  "Did you need something? I've got a bathtub running."

  "I just wanted to give you back your keys. I didn't want to lose them."

  I held up my hand, and as I did, a panel of the robe slipped open, stopping just short of my nipple. It didn't escape his notice, and if I was being honest with myself, I was a little disappointed it hadn't slipped farther. His earlier, appreciative gaze had awoken some physical stirrings, and something told me they weren't going away anytime soon.

  I curled my fingers around the keys. "Thanks. I'm sorry you had to come all the way back."

  He shrugged. "Wasn't that far." He looked back down the hallway. "About ten feet, give or take a few steps."

  I leaned my head out. "What do you mean? Are you staying here too?"

  "I'm in the next room. I stay here on my days off when I'm not working at the forest ranger station. We trade off shifts every three days."

  "Forest ranger? You don't look anything like a forest ranger. When I think forest ranger, I think of a chubby little man with khaki trousers, thin belt and a big round hat, like the guy in the Yogi Bear cartoons." I waved my hand in front of him. "This is not that. At all."

  "And this"—he waved his hand in front of me—"was not how I pictured a video game designer. Far from it." Uninvited, he stepped into the room. And with the way his hot gaze was warming me, I didn't have the strength to protest. His nearness was knocking me rather senseless.

  Again, his black lashes dropped as he surveyed my flimsy robe with unabashed appreciation. When his green eyes lifted to my face, it was almost as if he'd hypnotized me into thinking I needed to drop the robe. My fingers clutched the tie around my waist, but I didn't untie it.

  Fragrant steam floated into the bedroom, snapping me out of my haze. "The bath will overflow. I'm looking forward to a hot soak."

  Holt nodded. "Want some company?"

  I should have been stunned, and I should have responded with a slap or at least a scowl. But, apparently, my trip into the Twilight Zone had left me without any shred of propriety. Not that I had much of that to begin with, as my mom liked to remind me quite often.

  I looked him up and down, in much the same manner he'd been using on me. I twisted my bottom lip in consideration. "Nope. Won't work. There's this little thing called water displacement, and I'm afraid you would send my entire bath, bubbles and all, over the edge of the tub." And that was when it struck me. I was in a cozy inn miles from—well miles from reality—and I was alone, away from people I knew, people who could gossip about me on the virtual water cooler. I was away from friends and parents who would think it their place to scold me for bad decisions. As far as I was concerned, whatever happened at the Silk Stocking Inn, stayed at the Silk Stocking Inn. And with that, I dropped my robe in the middle of the bedroom and sashayed into the bathroom, leaving the magnificent giant of a man stunned and speechless behind me.

  8

  I'd been surprisingly cool, calm and collected after dropping the robe in front of Holt. But once the bedroom door snapped shut, and Holt's heavy footsteps landed on the floor behind me, I squealed and picked up my pace. I climbed into the hot tub and cloak of bubbles with such haste, I spilled a good amount on the floor.

  I turned off the water and sank down to hide my nakedness in the bubbles.

  Holt dropped a towel on the floor to sop up the spilled water and give him a dry place to sit. "I'm thinking this might be fun to watch."

  I pushed the bubbles in a mound in front of my breasts. After building a respectable, soapy barrier, Holt leaned forward and blew gently. The bubbles parted, exposing my breasts to his gaze.

  "That's better."

  I could have spent the next few minutes gathering the bubbles again, or if I had any sense, I could have asked him to leave while I finished my bath. But then I had been the one to start it by dropping my robe in front of him. And if I gave it a good long thought, I didn't want him to leave. The heavy duty flirting was the most fun I'd had with a man in a long time.

  Holt lifted his hand over the edge of the tub. With a sly grin, he reached for the dragonfly tattoo I had running along the side of my breast. I held my breath as his fingertip traced the ink. "This is nice. Good detail." His deep voice rolled off the bathroom tile.

  I found myself instinctively lifting my breasts higher, inviting him to touch me. Which he did. His thumb swept around my nipple. It puckered beneath his touch.

  "Beautiful," he said quietly as he lifted his gaze to my face. His thumb continued to draw circles around my nipple. It was the only place of contact, the only place where he touched me, yet I could feel that tiny touch through my entire body. My pussy tingled with the feel of it.

  He reached for the lavender bar of soap sitting on a dish at the end of the tub, but then stopped. "Guess I'm going to have to do something about these sleeves if I'm going to help you with your bath."

  He stood up and looked extra tall standing over the tub. His shadow dimmed the light in the bathroom, and it seemed to pop another idea in his head. He walked to the shelves that held the towels and sundries and pulled out two candles and a book of matches. He set the candles on the counter, but before lighting them, he stopped to roll up his sleeves. Again, he stopped halfway through the task. Instead of rolling up his sleeves, he reached behind his neck and took hold of the sweater. It came off, right along with the t-shirt beneath.

  I grabbed the edge of the tub to steady myself as I gawked at the unbelievable man standing just five feet from me. Every line of muscle was cut perfectly as if he was a drawing or . . . an artist's rendition . . . of the ideal male physique. Just like Ziggy Holt, the character.

  "I'm still trying to decide if you're real." I finally loosened my grip on the tub.

  "Huh, I'm still trying to decide the same thing about you." He lit the candles and turned off the light. Flickering light wavered across the tile and chrome fixtures, bathing the room in shadows.

  A shirtless Holt stepped through the unsteady glow. He knelt down by the tub and picked up the soap. I couldn't stop myself. I had to touch him. I had to assure myself that this was happening. My fingers trailed over his tattoo covered pecs and along the ripples on his abdomen. It seemed he was enjoying it. I was definitely enjoying it.

  "You are real, but you're also unreal, if that makes sense." I lowered my hand back into the water, deciding I'd blathered on long enough.

  "I like the way you reason things, snow angel. Now, close your eyes, sit back and relax."

  I closed my eyes but then opened one, curious to see what he was up to.

  He lifted a brow in a silent reprimand. I shut both eyes again, and after a long deep breath, I allowed myself to relax back against the tub. I was cradled in hot water as I lost myself in the luxury of the bubbles and in the erotic feeling of knowing that Holt was sitting there, right next to the tub, watching me.

  The cool air in the bathroom circled my wet breasts as they rose and fell with each breath. I could feel and hear Holt submerge the soap in the water.

  I pointed without opening my eyes. "There's a washcloth draped over that end of the tub."

  "Why the hell would I want a washcloth between my hands and your naked body?"

  "Good point." I lifted my arms to rest on the edge of the tub and leaned my head back. I'd knotted my long hair in a bun on top of my head to keep it from getting wet, but it was slowly unraveling. I could feel long tendrils curling against my wet shoulders.

  The water moved and before I could take my next breath, a large soapy hand smoothed over my belly and up to my breasts. I nearly melted right down into the water with the luxurious feel of his hands soaping up my skin.

  "You are a puzzle," my voice drifted up with the steam. "All that power in those arms and yet you know how to be gentle."

  "I like to find a balance between the two when it comes to women." His hand smoothed back over my belly an
d headed for my pussy. "Spread your legs, Jen. I want to be thorough."

  "Uh huh," I sighed. I parted my legs as much as the tub would allow. Holt's hand slipped down between my thighs, and his fingers drew first along the folds of my pussy, before dipping inside of me.

  I clutched the edges of the tub. My soft moans circled the small room. My head was light with the hot water, the perfumed air and the thick long fingers dancing inside of me. His other hand smoothed over my breasts and teased my nipples while the one between my legs flicked over my clit and impaled me with deep, long strokes.

  "Holt," I mewled.

  "That's it, Jen. I want to watch you come."

  I braced my feet against the end of the tub and pushed against the pressure of his hand. It had been so long, too long, since I'd been with a man who knew exactly what he was doing that I easily slipped over into an orgasm.

  Water lapped against the side of the tub as the waves of pleasure rolled through my body. I relaxed in the warmth and allowed my bathtub fantasy a few more moments of tranquil quiet before opening my eyes. Holt removed his hands from the water and pushed to his feet. It was more than evident that the last few minutes had been just as exhilarating for him. He made no attempt to hide the erection pushing at the fly of his pants. It might have been the angle that I was looking at it, but something told me, his cock went with the rest of him, big, beautiful and breathtaking.

  I watched the muscles in his back and shoulders flex as he turned around and plucked a towel off the shelf. He dried off his arms and held up the towel. "I think Coco has made lasagna. Are you hungry or are you going to keep soaking?"