Snowbound (3 page)

He laughed with her, all the while conscious
of her hand on his leg, and the way her breasts strained against
the soft sweater as she leaned across the gap separating them to be
able to touch him. His amusement fled as he contemplated grabbing a
handful of the hair she’d brushed into a shining curtain of silvery
blonde and bridging the distance. She couldn’t weigh more than a
hundred pounds, and he didn’t think she’d resist if he lifted her
to sit on his lap. It had been a while since a woman had desired
him for any reason besides being paid to, but he was pretty sure he
remembered that smoky look that came to her eyes, or the way an
aroused woman licked her pouty lips.

If Beth wanted him, he was in big trouble.
Her father couldn’t arrive soon enough to save him from making a
mistake that he seemed helpless to stop. Getting through the
evening without touching her was an exercise in will power, and he
was relieved when she started yawning around nine and made her way
to bed. Thank goodness the rest of the group was coming tomorrow.
His tenuous self-control needed reinforcements.

Chapter Two

Beth had slept well last night, despite her
lack of progress in getting Reed into bed. In retrospect, she’d
figured out he wasn’t the kind of man who would take a young woman
to bed for a one-night stand—especially if he discovered she was
still a member of the V-club. He seemed like the torn-up,
angst-ridden type, who wouldn’t allow himself to easily give in to
desire for someone he thought he shouldn’t want. In the light of
day—though that was more a habitual phrase than a reality, with the
grayish light coming through the windows—she was still optimistic.
Yeah, her dad would put a crimp in her attempts, but there would be
two weeks to wear down his resistance. She didn’t think she’d been
wrong about the spark of interest in his blue eyes last night, and
she sure hadn’t been imagining the erection he’d had, even in the
midst of their mock sparring.

He looked dour when she joined him at the
table. “You’re up early,” he said, making it an accusation.

She smiled. “I’m a morning person, Reed.”

“I’m not.” He glared at his oatmeal. “Even
worse without coffee.”

“Do you want me to make some?”

He frowned. “I can make my own damned coffee,
but the pot’s broken.”

She put up a hand. “Easy there. I’m not Snow
White.” He just blinked, clearly confused. She giggled. “As in the
seven dwarves, which included Grumpy?” His confusion cleared, but
he didn’t look amused. For some reason, his surliness made her want
to snicker instead of respond in kind today, and she chuckled.

“Laugh it up, but I got bad news.” He
gestured to some expensive-looking communication equipment on a
nearby table. “Your old man radioed. There’s bad weather there,
heading our way, and they won’t be coming today.”

“Oh?” She could barely hide her excitement.
“Tomorrow then?”

He snorted. “More like four or five days.
Three, if we’re lucky.”

“Oh, then I hope I get lucky.” She said it
casually, but had to bite back a grin at her hidden meaning. Her
chances of doing so had just risen astronomically.

“You’ll have to find some way to entertain
yourself,” he said as he pushed the serving bowl of oatmeal her way
before scooping up his own now-empty bowl to take to the sink.
“With bad weather coming, I need to take stock of everything. Make
sure we have enough provisions, like firewood.” His large hands
made quick work of washing the bowl. “First thing I gotta do is
check the gennies.” He turned from the sink. “Generators.”

Beth resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but
exasperation still stained her voice. “Yeah, I know what a genny
is, Reed.”

He nodded. “There’s probably not much you
don’t know.”

Delivered in that tone, it was difficult to
tell if he was making conversation, paying a compliment, or casting
aspersions. She tilted her head sideways, making her hair fall over
her shoulder and down the front of the sleep tank she wore. “Why do
you say that?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Rich folks, clearly a
good education. I’m guessin’ some prestigious private school?
You’re probably going to the best university money can buy.”

It was definitely starting to sound like a
negative, and her back tensed. “I went to a private school, but not
the elite boarding school my dad wanted. Fortunately, my mom likes
having me around.” She smiled a bit, hoping to coax one from him.
“As far as school goes, I haven’t actually enrolled yet. I’m taking
a year off between high school and college.”

He snorted. “Who wouldn’t love to do that?
‘Course, most of us don’t have rich parents to pay for such an
indulgence.”

The nasty tone underlying his words made her
frown. “Is it a crime to be rich?”

“If it is, I sure want to be a criminal,” he
said with a twist of his lips. “Ain’t no crime to enjoy your
daddy’s money, but it’d be nice if you appreciate it too and
acknowledge you’re luckier than most.”

“My mother’s actually,” she said softly. At
his blank look, she added, “It’s my mother’s money that Daddy
wastes so extravagantly. She’s from a family of Texas oil barons so
embarrassingly wealthy that his ridiculous frivolities aren’t even
a blip on her radar.” She lowered her voice. “Is that what you
wanted to hear, Reed? I’m just some spoiled little rich girl, out
for a good time?”

One side of his mouth raised, and he seemed
to be poised to say something. Finally, with an air that suggested
he’d changed his mind, he just said, “You ain’t a girl, remember?”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left the kitchen,
calling over his shoulder, “There’s some books on the shelf in the
great room. Movies and such too, but no cable or TV stations. You
might have to see to your own lunch, dependin’ on how long the
genny and other preps take me.”

Beth watched him go, her brain whirring.
Obviously, the man had a hang-up on wealth. Apparently, not only
did she have to get him to see her as a fully grown woman, but she
also had to tackle his prejudice toward privilege. Toying with the
spoon in her oatmeal, she wondered if it was worth it. There were
other men out there. Men far easier to control. Even if she didn’t
have her parents’ bank account as an enticement, she knew her own
petite curves and striking blonde hair gave her a natural advantage
when it came to conquering men. She’d never been one to rely on
such wiles before, but it wouldn’t take much to tempt one of the
men of her acquaintance into helping her dispense with the V-card.
Not that she really cared about doing so. Virginity was neither
something she prized nor baggage she couldn’t wait to shed. She’d
always assumed she would know when it was the right guy and the
right time.

Every instinct inside her was clamoring for
Reed, telling her it was the right time and the right guy. He was
going to make it difficult, but she decided she wasn’t ready to
give up on her campaign just yet.

If she wanted something badly enough, she
could almost always make it happen—often without the wealth he
disparaged so obviously—and she wanted Reed very much. Despite
their short acquaintance, and her only superficial knowledge of all
other aspects of the man, she was convinced he was meant to be
hers. It sounded silly, even to her, and she was glad she didn’t
have to explain to anyone how she knew on an instinctual level that
he was the man she’d been waiting for to bring her body fully to
life.

Reed came in around two for a late lunch. He
wasn’t finished with the generator yet, having decided it needed a
complete tune-up, and he hadn’t even started chopping firewood, but
his stomach was growling like a bear. As he stripped off his coat,
a tantalizing aroma hit his nose, and his stomach growled harder.
With an impatient kick of his boots toward the door, he walked
farther into the house, pausing in the kitchen.

Inhaling deeply, he detected garlic and
roasting meat. With an appreciative hum, he opened the oven door a
bit to peek in. The sight of a bison roast neatly surrounded by
chopped potatoes, carrots, and leeks made his stomach gurgle.

“It’s not ready yet.”

He straightened abruptly at the sound of her
voice behind him. Whatever he’d planned to say was lost at the
sight of her in a skimpy white robe that left little to the
imagination. Reed couldn’t keep his eyes from dipping momentarily
to her breasts, where the faintest pink from her areolas showed
through the thin silk, but immediately brought his eyes upward, to
lodge on her ponytail.

She put her arms around her torso. “I was
just coming to baste it once more before I got in the shower.”

He nodded. “I can handle that.” Amazingly,
his voice still worked, though it sounded raspy.

She smiled. “Thanks. I’ll hit the shower
then.”

Reed nodded again, watching her turn around
and walk back toward the guest quarters. He couldn’t tear his gaze
from her sweet little ass caressed by the silk. His cock hardened
at the thought of her naked underneath it, and he briefly
considered putting the table to a new use, for which it had never
been intended.

With a sigh that was part regret and part
self-loathing for the inappropriate attraction, he turned back to
the oven and quickly basted the meal she had put together. After
that, he slapped together a peanut butter and jam sandwich,
practically swallowing it whole in his efforts to get back outside.
The farther he was from her, the better for his self-control.

After a quick glass of milk, he washed up and
started to put his boots on again. He hesitated, realizing he
hadn’t thought to ask her when the roast would be finished. After
she’d gone to so much trouble, he didn’t want to be late. After
another second’s hesitation, he left his boots by the door and
walked over to the entrance to the guestrooms. He couldn’t hear the
shower running, so he assumed she was finished. At the bathroom, he
lifted his hand to tap on the door, but hesitated when he heard a
splash.

Reed barely bit back a groan as his mind
insisted on supplying him with an image of the object of his
desires squeezed into that tiny tub. As he imagined her fingers
working over her skin, spreading bubbles—because she had to be the
bubble bath type—a moan filled the air. For a second, he thought it
had escaped him, and he bit hard on his tongue. It was only when it
came again, along with the sound of sloshing water in a rhythmic
fashion, that he realized Beth had made the soft moan. Instantly,
he knew what she was doing, and again, his mind projected an image.
The only practical way she could touch herself in that tub was to
hang one leg over the side, to fully open her thighs.

Her hand would have enough room to slip
between at that point, to touch and tease the wet heat between her
legs. She moaned again, and he bit harder on his tongue as his dick
strained against his jeans. No doubt, she was stroking her clit
with those long fingers of hers.

Reed knew he should walk away, but the sounds
of her self-pleasure kept him glued to the spot long past when the
decent thing would have been to give her privacy. His cock pulsed
in time with her panted breaths and low groans of satisfaction. He
gripped the doorjamb when she cried out quietly and was grateful
for its support when she uttered a single word.

“Reed,” she whispered in a soft, breathy
murmur that sounded like ecstasy given voice.

He clutched the wood until his knuckles
turned white before he was able to regain control and walk away
from the bathroom as quietly as possible. He reentered his living
area and put on his outdoor gear quickly, almost running to the
shed housing the generator in an attempt to flee the natural male
impulse that was urging him to turn around, go back into the house,
and find Beth, so he could finish what she’d started.

He cursed a blue streak in the shed as he
tried to return his attention to the generator. Temptation
personified was in his house, and he was out in the cold,
literally. Life really sucked sometimes. Here was something he
wanted desperately, but circumstances made it impossible. “Story of
my life,” he said aloud as he grasped the wrench. It was going to
be a long three days until the rest of the party arrived. He hoped
the weather improved quickly.

Chapter Three

Beth had spent the afternoon cleaning and
straightening the already tidy great room and kitchen after putting
on the roast. It had seemed like a productive use of her time, and
perhaps she’d hoped to impress him with her Suzy Homemaker skills.
Not that it seemed likely to work. The man could kill his own
dinner, cook it, and clean up after himself. What did he need a
woman around for?

Well, besides the obvious. Her pussy tingled
as she recalled the fantasy she’d had in the bathtub, imagining
Reed’s hand bringing her to orgasm. Foolish optimism soared, and
she found herself fervently hoping they would remain snowbound for
weeks, without interruption. Surely, in that time, she could gain
his attention.

She had just taken out the roast when he
opened the door. With a smile in his direction, she said, “Perfect
timing. I just need to make some jus, and we’re ready to eat.”

He looked cold and haggard. “I’ll have a
quick wash.” Something about his eyes and tone made the words sound
more suggestive than they should have, making her mind jump back to
her self-pleasuring session in the bathroom earlier in the day. Was
he planning to do the same?

Keeping her attention on the skillet was
difficult as she imagined him stripping off all his clothes and
stepping into his shower. She didn’t know if was similar to the one
in his guest quarters, but her mind conjured up that tiny stall,
trying to figure out the logistics of two bodies squeezed in there
together.

He came back to the table ten minutes later,
wearing faded jeans that hugged like a second skin and a thick
tweed sweater. She’d already set the table and now put out the
food. “I don’t know where you keep your wine, but a nice red would
pair well with this.”