Snowed In

SNOWED IN

Andie Devaux

Snowed In

Andie Devaux

Copyright © 2014 by Andie Devaux. All rights
reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit
in any form or by any means.

Smashwords Edition

**For adults only. This is an erotic romance
that contains material that is not suitable for children.**

This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Visit the author’s website at
www.andiedevaux.com

Edited by QuickQuill Editing and Editing
720

Cover designed by GoOnWrite

First Edition March 2014

Carrie Drummond is excited to spend a fun,
relaxing weekend at a mountain cabin with her friends—a last hurrah
before they all graduate college in a few months. But when the
power goes out and the only other person to make it through the
snowstorm is the one man in the world she hates, she thinks the
weekend is ruined.

But her so-called enemy has other plans.

Bryan Grant always ends up with his foot in
his mouth around Carrie, and he’s determined not to let their night
alone go to waste. But will the uptight, lawyer-in-training be able
to convince the paint-stained artist to give him a shot?

*Snowed In is a new adult erotic romance
novelette. It is not intended for younger readers due to mature
content. *

7,800 words

This story was previously published under
the title Snowed In by Anna Daye, but has been expanded and
re-edited.

Snowed In

Carrie Drummond didn’t freak until the
lights went out. But when a big gust of wind hit and the lamps and
television flickered off, leaving her alone in the dark, unfamiliar
cabin, panic hit. Only the flash of car lights coming up the
snow-filled driveway kept her mind from envisioning a full-fledged
horror film scenario.

She took a deep breath and let it out
slowly. The car had to be Stacy and David. Stacy had said they were
on their way not long after Carrie left her apartment. Granted,
Stacy tended to run late—very late—but Carrie had driven like a
snail to get here. David had probably caught up to her.

Brutal snow had greeted her once she had hit
the mountain roads, and the normal hour-long drive from town to
Stacy’s father’s cabin had taken her over two hours. But it would
so be worth it tomorrow when they hit the ski slopes.

After a hellish week of finals, they’d
earned their fun weekend of skiing. Besides, Carrie worried that
with only one more semester left of school, things were going to
change soon.

Classes were basically finished, and
although they hadn’t talked about it much, it was clear that things
would soon be different between Carrie and Stacy. Carrie was going
to grad school across the state. Stacy had a few job offers she was
considering, and David had the eyes of a man bent on proposing.
Carrie was ninety-nine percent sure that Stacy was going to say
yes.

Everything was going to change whether they
were ready for it or not.

The headlights turned off and she started
toward the front door to wave them in, trying to remember where the
furniture was as she edged her way through the dark house. The moon
was full—or near enough—so when she opened the door to call out to
them, she could clearly see the SUV in the driveway behind her
Subaru.

Crap.

Stacy hadn’t mentioned inviting him, but
Carrie recognized the dark silver shade of Bryan Grant’s Toyota,
though the vehicle looked almost black in the moonlight. And
Stacy’s car was nowhere to be seen.

Double crap.

The man himself slammed the car door and
walked through the building snow toward the front door where she
stood. Even in the moonlight, she could appreciate the wide stretch
of his shoulders and the way his dark hair waved around his face.
The chiseled line of his jaw and his striking blue eyes were hidden
by the night, but she could see them clearly in her mind’s eye. He
was a hottie, all right.

Too bad he was also a world-class jerk.

"Hey," he said, apparently seeing her form
in the doorway. "No power or are you already setting the mood?"

"Har-har." She shot another nervous glance
behind him. "Have you heard from Stacy?"

"David called. Looks like they're not going
to make it. Snow made the roads too shitty for Stacy's car."

Why hadn't Stacy called her?

As if he'd read her mind, he added, "Stacy
said your phone was going straight to voicemail. Probably not the
best reception up here. Especially with this blizzard moving
through."

He stomped on the steps, leaving a small
pile of snow around his snow boots.

"Shouldn't we head out, then?"

"And risk these roads?" He let out a low
laugh, and something in her stomach clenched. "Go drive into a
ravine if you like, I'm going to stay here where it's warm."

He moved past her into the cabin, his lower
chest brushed her breasts and her nipples hardened in response.
Anger flitted through her and she slammed the door behind them just
a little too hard. He really wouldn't give a crap if she tried to
drive back to town.

They'd never gotten along, but he was
David's best friend so they'd been forced to spend a lot of time
together over the last couple of years. Annoyingly, he’d seemed to
show up just about everywhere she had the last six months. Always
there with his arrogant attitude and a little sneer on his lips. He
was everything she couldn't stand in a man. A conceited jerk fresh
out of law school and no doubt headed for some super impressive job
handling legal issues for corporations screwing people over.

Not to mention that he never let a chance to
give her a hard time go by. He took any and all opportunities.
Poking fun at her for majoring in art. Tugging at her paint-stained
clothes and asking when she was going to dress like a grown up.
Teasing her about her hair and her ideals…ugh. She couldn’t think
of a single person she’d rather not be stuck with in a
snowstorm.

“Guess we might as well get comfortable.
I’ll see if there are some candles in the kitchen.”

He was gone before she could reply, moving
quickly through the house as if he could see in the dark. But then,
she could see better now, too. Her eyes had adjusted somewhat, and
she could make out large shapes in the dark, odd-looking,
highlighted by the thin rays of light coming through the
windows.

The roll and bump of drawers opening and
closing in the kitchen sounded, and before long, Bryan
returned.

“Not sure where the candles are. If the
lights don’t come back on in a few, I’ll see if I can get reception
to call the lovebirds to ask where they keep them.” He waved a
glass toward her and she took it.

“Wine. Figured we might as well get
comfortable. Who knows, maybe a few drinks and you won’t despise me
quite so much.”

She choked on the sip she’d ventured, then
wiped at her jaw, happy he couldn’t see her spitting on herself in
the dark.

“Don’t bother arguing. I told David that
their little scheme would never work, but Stacy isn’t one to let go
when she has a plan.”

“What plan? What are you talking about?” she
managed, after another drink of wine to clear her throat.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. All the
time the four of us have been spending together the last few
months. And now the weekend away to the romantic cabin.”

“They’re trying to set us up.” It all
suddenly made sense, and she burned with embarrassment that she
hadn’t picked up on it already, like Bryan had.

“Yep,” he said, but to his credit he didn’t
add that she was slow for not realizing sooner.

“But that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” he asked, but she could hear the
smile in his voice.

“We’re like oil and water. If oil and water
annoyed the crap out of each other in addition to not mixing well.”
She drank down the rest of her wine and set the glass on the coffee
table between them. “Sorry, but come on.”

“Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.”

Something inside of her twinged at his
words. It wasn’t that she expected Bryan to like her—they annoyed
each other far too much for that—but her pride didn’t care to have
it spoken aloud. And he was a very attractive man, well-built with
a chiseled jaw and the sharp features of an old movie star. If he’d
keep his mouth shut for five minutes he’d make good eye candy.

And if she was totally honest, she’d thought
about him far too often. Not about being with him in any real way,
but there was something about the cruel set to his mouth, the way
his eyes watched her sometimes, that made her wonder what it would
be like to be
with
him. Different, she was sure, than it had
been with the other men—boys, really—that she’d dated in
school.

“That’s not to say I haven’t fantasized
about you.”

Her throat went dry when he voiced her
thoughts as if he’d plucked them right out of her skull, and she
wished she hadn’t drank all of her wine. She swallowed hard, but
her voice still came out weak, hesitant.

“You have?”

“Oh yes.” His glass chinked as he set it on
the coffee table. And even in the darkness she could feel his eyes
on her. Watching. Waiting for her reaction.

Images ran through her mind. Bryan’s cruel
grin replaced a look of ecstasy when she touched him. His body
covering hers while he thrust into her heat. Bryan’s eyes, locking
on hers as he whispered pretty words…or dirty ones.

It was a terrible idea to delve into any
fantasies he’d had that she happened to star in. Terrible. But she
couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“What have you fantasized about?”

“Do you really want to know?” His voice
deepened, and she squirmed in her seat.

“Yes.”

“I’ve thought about how it would feel to
have your wet lips wrapped around my dick while I fuck that smart
mouth of yours.”

She gasped, but he didn’t pause for her
reaction.

“I think about grabbing you by your hair and
bending you over the nearest table when you start in on one of your
corporate overlord rants. Pushing down your tight, paint-covered
jeans and finding your panties soaking wet for me. I wonder if your
pussy is as tight as I imagine?” A soft chuckle escaped him. “I’ll
bet coming all over my cock would shut you up for a while.”

Fingers digging into the edge of the couch,
she found herself leaning toward him. A pool of want—need—built
inside of her, and her breathing was thready. His words should have
offended her. They weren’t words of love or sweetness and light.
The words were bad and dirty and somehow hot enough to bring her to
the edge of orgasm.

She should have been worried that something
was wrong with her, but she couldn’t think past the images he’d
planted even more firmly in her head.

“What do you think of that, Carrie?” He
didn’t move a muscle, still sitting as if relaxed on the loveseat
across the coffee table from where she sat on the couch. But his
voice was tight. The man wasn’t the cool cucumber he wanted her to
think he was.

“I think that you’re a rough-talking
asshole.”

“I think you want to be fucked by a
rough-talking asshole.”

She gasped again, and couldn’t say for sure
if it was entirely because of shock, or if part of her, a larger
part than she would ever admit, found the way he talked to her
sexy.

“Is this turning you on?”

“No!” she lied.

With a quick motion, he got up from the
loveseat and made his way to the couch, sitting close enough that
his knee brushed hers.

Already tense, her muscles tightened
further.

“Let’s be real here, Carrie.” He reached up
and slid her hair behind her shoulder, his hand brushing her neck
and sending a shiver through her body. “We don’t get along. We have
entirely different views of the world. That’s probably not going to
change. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t attracted to one
another.”

She snorted. “You’re right on that—the first
part anyway.”

“You’re not attracted to me?” He leaned in
and she could feel his breath move against her ear. The smell of
wine and the tiniest bit of cologne touched her nose, and she
struggled not to take a deep breath, inhale his scent.