They’d had afternoon sex in her room today. After they’d eaten lunch and warmed up from playing in the snow, he’d come in and grasped her hips, grinding into her from behind. She’d gladly stopped what she was doing—packing—and made love to him.
Made love.
She thought the words with an eye roll, but there wasn’t a better way to phrase it.
He’d always had an intimate way about him that was impossible to deny. Temporary or not, when they were together, they were both focused on the finite. The immediate moment—the breaths they shared. The noises they made. The sensations in their bodies turning them inside out.
She hated to admit it, but she was hoping they’d have another go at it tonight.
“You’re too tired,” she said, but noticed her own eyelids weighing heavy.
“Too tired for what?” But he knew. He grabbed a handful of her T-shirt. “You’re the one who’s dressed. I took that as a lack of interest.”
“Where you’re concerned, Mr. Mayor, there’s never been lack of interest.” She’d meant the comment to tease, but her voice came out husky.
“I’m never too tired.” His hand warmed her belly and coasted north until he found her bare breast. He tweaked a nipple and she squirmed. He did it again and he smiled. “I feel a second wind coming on.”
Her answer was a lust-heavy exhale.
The blankets were gone in a sudden whoosh and his eyes went from half-lidded haze to heated gaze in a split second.
“Off.” He plucked her T-shirt. “I’ll wrestle with these stretchy prison bars,” he said of her tight pants. He made short work of them, throwing her socks over his shoulder as she tore off her T-shirt. He lost the boxer briefs next and lay against her body, every simmering inch of hard muscle warming wherever he touched.
“Still cold?”
She shivered but shook her head. That shiver had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the anticipation of his clever mouth. His attentive hands. His—
Chase’s tongue circled her nipple and his fingers spread her legs. He dipped his middle finger into her well of desire, finding her wet and ready.
“No, I don’t believe you’re cold any longer.” With a wicked grin, he kissed his way down her body and positioned himself between her legs. He stayed down there a long time, not coming up for air even when she begged him not to make her come again. Instead he wrung one more out of her, one that sent her fluttering pulse into overdrive. Her shouts of completion echoed off his bedroom walls and rang off the wide windows overlooking the silent, snowy lake.
She didn’t know how long she lay on her side, suffering aftershocks from back-to-back powerful releases. When she finally heard his voice it was through a head stuffed with cotton.
“Sleep, beautiful girl,” he whispered into her ear. “You earned it.”
A soft but firm kiss hit the corner of her mouth and She meant to turn over and relay her appreciation, but instead slipped into the gauzy realm of deep sleep and dreamed of nothing at all.
* * *
Chase woke up confused about what time it was. The moon was out and reflecting on the snow, making it appear like early morning, but the sky was pitch-black, stars dotting the nighttime canvas.
He checked his phone for the time—3:00 a.m.—and then rolled over to wrap a palm around Mimi’s breast.
Neither she nor her breasts were there.
He lay on his back in the semidark listening for her. She hadn’t gone far. From the sound of fluttering pages coming from the room outside his, she was flipping through a book. After taking her on his tongue, he’d been sure she’d sleep through the night. He was beat from shoveling, sledding—or tobogganing—and honest-to-goodness fatigue had had him drifting off in a matter of minutes. Short-lived, evidently. Whatever had woken him, be it Mimi’s wandering about or a dream that had already lost its potency after jarring him awake, he was too alert to fall asleep again.
Climbing out of bed, he was greeted by frigid air in the room. He grabbed his phone to check the app for his thermostat, bumping it up a few degrees. Then he checked his stocks out of habit, narrowly avoided his email and left the device on his nightstand. At the door of his bedroom, he found her where he’d imagined.
Wrapped in a thick quilt in the library and curled on the armchair facing the window over the lake. She was flipping through one of the books from the shelves. A murder mystery by the looks of it.
“Fan of Patterson?”
She looked up, briefly startled by him standing there. “Who isn’t?”
“Good point.”
She slid her gaze down his boxers-only attire. “Put some clothes on. It’s cold.”
“Share your blanket instead.” He tugged a corner of it, exposing her bare legs. She had on panties and a T-shirt, but nothing else. Perfect.
“This chair isn’t big enough for—Hey!” Her exclaimed argument faded into soft laughter as the hardbound book hit the floor with a thunk. He lifted her and set her on his lap, cradling her close and wrapping that blanket around his legs while he was at it.
“Plenty of room,” he said of their shared seat. “What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” This close, he could see the feathered soft lines at the corners of her eyes, the faint smile lines around her mouth. The freckles that had been out in droves years ago were fainter but still present, likely from her work outdoors.
“I did everything in my power to put you out for an entire night. I was hoping you’d sleep in.”
“Why? Were you going to deliver me an avocado-and-protein smoothie in bed?”
He captured her hand in his and wove their fingers together, admiring the way her long, elegant fingers fit against his tanner, wider ones.
“I was going to make pancakes.”
“You’re lying.”
“Tomorrow, or today technically,” he corrected, “is looking like our last day together. I assume once the driveway is cleared you’ll go home.”
“What will you do?” she asked instead of addressing his comment.
“I don’t know.” He pulled in a breath and let it out. “Stay. Leave. Depends.”
She examined their linked hands and said nothing.
“Mimi.” That brought her dark eyes to his. He took in her pretty, delicate features in the streaming moonlight, weighed her hand in his and absolutely did not say what he was thinking. Which was that his staying or leaving had everything to do with her.
He’d come here to get away. And yes, in a distant part of his mind he’d considered that he might run into her while he was here. He’d considered dropping in on her at work and buying her a coffee under the guise of discussing the photo and the letter sent from his office. He’d wanted to see her. See if she was all right. Find out if she hated him for what he did, or if they’d outgrown what had been between them.
He’d have died before admitting the unfinished business, but after he’d run into her at the supermarket he’d concluded that was exactly what it was. When she’d called to invite him to her family’s house, he’d declined, guessing he’d be unwelcomed by her family and knowing that Mimi couldn’t help being kind.
He never expected her to drive out to see him, end up trapped with him in this snowstorm. And even though he’d been determined to have her in his arms once she was stuck here with him, he never imagined it would be this easy. This satisfying. This...right. He hadn’t counted on the onslaught of powerful emotions from years ago to resurface, either. Feelings for her he hadn’t examined and would prefer not to, but stood before him now like an immovable wall.
He could see now how much she’d mattered to him back then. He’d concluded that the cure was time and space; distance should have erased the intensity between them. He’d assumed the bond they’d had then had been broken. It was beginning to appear as if it’d been merely...interrupted.
&nbs
p; Hell, maybe he should tell her what was on his mind. He had no idea what was going on in her head and guessing would do him no good... Maybe he’d been wrong assuming she wouldn’t fit into his world. Maybe—
“I think you should stay,” she said, all but stealing his next breath.
“You do?” he asked like an imbecile.
“Yes. Bigfork is beautiful in the winter and you haven’t been here for very long. Once they clear the snow, they’ll cordon off part of the lake for ice skating. Especially if the weather stays this cold.” She chattered another couple of seconds like a tour guide listing the many amenities that could occupy his time while he was in Bigfork.
But she failed to list herself among them.
“What about you?”
“Well, I live here.” She looped her arms around his neck and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “I don’t need to see the sights.”
“I mean what are you doing while I’m here?”
She shrugged casually. “Working, most likely. I only took off through Monday.”
He frowned. “Mimi.”
“What?”
“Can I...” He was out of his element, which was frustrating. He never hesitated to ask for what he wanted. And what he wanted was the attention of the woman on his lap for a few more days. Hell, weeks. He didn’t know. Just...more. He pulled in a breath and blew out a gruff invitation, “Do you want to grab dinner some night while I’m here, or not?”
“Charming.” But she smiled when she said it.
“Sorry. I’m...tired.”
“Well...” She offered a careless shrug like he wasn’t hanging on her every syllable. “I might have a free night next week. You have my number.”
It was a blowoff if he’d ever heard one. And he’d delivered a few in his day.
She kissed him, lingering at his bottom lip to give it a gentle bite. “I don’t want to think about work. I want to think about...” She reached between his legs. “Right now.”
He let out a grunt and she crushed his lips with a kiss while her hand kept stroking. There’d been a brief objection in his brain but damn if he could access it now. Her touching him had erased any brewing argument—sound or not. He was vaguely aware he should be stopping her to continue this discussion and put it to rest for good, but another stroke and her moaned “I want you” against his lips successfully deterred him.
He unwound the piled blanket from her body and shifted her on his lap. Her lips never left his. He had her divested of the white cotton panties in a blink. She yanked down his boxer briefs as far as his thighs and positioned herself over his heavy erection.
Sweat beaded his brow. He cupped her nape with one hand and rested his forehead on hers.
“Wait.” His voice came out on a harsh breath. “Condom. Or...not...”
She froze. The whites of her eyes were bright in the moonlight streaming in behind him. She gulped and that was the moment he knew they were on the same page. Despite her flippant reaction to his asking her out, Mimi was invested. In him. At least for the moment.
He brushed her hair over her shoulder. “We can move this to the bedroom, or we can stay here and have nothing between us.” It was a risk, and more than a physical one. “Tell me it’s possible.”
“Do you mean am I on the pill? Am I clean?” She pressed a finger to his bottom lip. “Yes to both, but...”
“Too much?” he guessed. No barrier put them back where they were ten years ago. In her cramped twin bed where nothing—not even a thin coat of rubber—had stood between them.
“I loved how you felt. Just you. Just us.” And more than anything, he needed that connection now. For reasons he couldn’t explain—or maybe reasons he wouldn’t admit.
His heart gave a dangerous lurch forward.
“Are you... A lot has happened since then,” she said.
“Not as much as you think.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and cradled the back of her head, her hair’s silken strands tickling his forearm. “The last woman I slept with without a condom was you.”
He felt more than saw her pull her head back.
“For old time’s sake?” she asked, her smile nervous rather than sly. It was more than that and she knew it, but in this dim, moonlit space on their last night together, he’d give her the out.
“For old time’s sake,” he agreed.
Straddling him, she held his gaze captive and sank down so slowly he had to weld his back teeth together to keep from coming too soon. She emitted a familiar sigh of pleasure that he echoed. She was soft and warm—everything he remembered mixed with everything he now knew. Being with her was different, but also the same.
She still absolutely undid him.
He tilted his hips, sinking into her and emitting a harsh exhale. He guided himself deep, noticing when she trembled against him. She was heat and silk and wet. Beauty and kindness and giving. Always so damn giving. Making this last would take a feat of superhuman willpower, but he’d make it last for her.
Her head was thrown back, her nipples pressing the thin white T-shirt. He absorbed her gasps, closing his lips over hers, marking her lust-heavy gaze in his memory. He made love to her with reverence, far from through with her, and hoped his actions conveyed what he hadn’t been able to say. That there was a reason for her to say yes to dinner, to say yes to him while he was here.
No. Longer.
Their lazy thrusts gained speed and it was that feverish pace that brought her to orgasm. She tensed and clutched him deep, coming with his name on her lips. He followed, spilling inside her and branding her his.
Whether she knew it or not.
Seventeen
Chase was in the shower when the gate’s call button rang. Miriam sent a glance up the staircase and dashed for the door, wondering if she should answer it. Who was up here in the middle of a blizzard?
She depressed the button labeled Speaker and hoped that was the right one. “Yes?”
“Good morning, ma’am. My partner and I are plowing driveways and I noticed yours needs clearing,” came a slightly southern accent. She backed away from the box and studied the video screen. The black-and-white picture showed a man in the cab of a pickup truck, a woman in a scarf and ballcap in the seat next to him. His face was pleasant, his goatee neatly trimmed. Young. She guessed him a twentysomething. She had a soft spot for hardworking twentysomethings. “The main road’s done,” he said with a glance in his rearview mirror. “We can have you cleared in thirty minutes tops.”
She remembered her own climb up the driveway. His must’ve been treacherous.
“How’d you climb the hill to the gate?”
A slightly chagrined smile decorated his handsome features. “Cleared free of charge, ma’am. We’re taking the chance you’ll hire us to finish.”
Well. She couldn’t say no to that. She’d planned on giving Chase her friend Rodney’s number to call about removing the snow, but these two were already here. Who knew if Rodney was even available? She couldn’t turn away budding entrepreneurs.
After a brief discussion of price, she agreed and buzzed them in. Feeling proud for handling it by herself, she called upstairs. “Snowplow guy’s here!”
It was a safe guess that her voice hadn’t carried all the way to his bedroom. This house was enormous. He needed one of those damn speaker boxes for each floor.
She made a fresh pot of coffee, intending to take some out to the two working in the driveway, but a knock at the door interrupted her task.
“That was fast,” she said to herself, encountering Chase at the bottom of the stairs.
“What was fast?” His hair was damp, and he was dressed in a sweater and jeans. He looked so good she was struck dumb for a beat. “Did I hear a knock?”
“Lucky for you, I was here to answer your gate. We are being shoveled out as we speak.” She climbed to h
er toes, taking a handful of his cable-knit sweater and kissing his firm mouth. Mmm. He always smelled good. “I negotiated a fair price.”
She walked for the front door, Chase on her heels. “How’d he get to the gate?”
“Don’t be alarmed, Mr. Mayor, I asked that, too. He cleared it in the hopes we’d say yes to his offer.”
“Mimi, wait.”
But she’d already yanked open the door. There she found the pair of entrepreneurs, the goateed guy holding a video camera and the blonde aiming her cell phone. The sound of electronic shutter snaps told her that the other woman was taking pictures. Questions from both of them came flying at her.
“Miriam Andrix, is it true that you and Chase Ferguson are rekindling your romance?”
“How do you plan to make it work being on opposite sides of the oil debate?”
“Mr. Mayor, are you planning on moving to Bigfork permanently or will Miriam be relocating to Dallas?”
Chase grabbed Miriam’s arm, tugging her roughly behind him. To the pair spouting questions, he growled, “Get the hell off my property or I’m calling the authorities.”
The snowplowers-slash-reporters...or whatever they were made one last attempt, shouting, “Chase, are you and Miriam in love? Will you be planning a wedding here in Montana?” before Chase shut the door with a slam. Snow swirled in from the porch and gathered in the entrance. He turned and melted Mimi’s skin off with a laser-hot glare.
“I didn’t know...” she started, but her voice trailed off.
“I know.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the door, shutting himself outside. She listened at the door as more machine-gun-fire questions sliced the air, but one voice was louder than the others—Chase’s. He was addressing someone on the phone, the police if Miriam had to guess, and saying that two unwanted guests had trespassed on his property. She watched out the window as the fakers scampered to the truck and backed down the driveway.
Chase came back inside, his damp hair dusted with snow that had frozen into icicles. He punched the Gate Closed button.
“What was that?” she asked. That insanity had happened right in front of her, yet she still couldn’t make sense of it.
A Snowbound Scandal (Dallas Billionaires Club Book 2) Page 12
