Caught by the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 1) (25 page)

A dull ache squeezed my heart but I did my best to smile. “Of course. Don’t go outside, I promise I won’t listen.”

She gave a short laugh as she got to her feet, brushing her dark hair over her shoulder. “There’s nothing I could say that you don’t already know,” she said as if the thought had just occurred to her. She sat cross-legged on the bed and thumbed through her phone, giving me a smile as she brought it to her ear.

My mind drifted as I returned to chopping the onions and peppers. The sound of her voice was soothing, just her presence was enough to take away a lot of the burden I carried on a daily basis. As she talked to her dad, laughing and joking, assuring him everything was going just fine, I resolved to tell her everything. I had to at least match her bravery on that. If she hated me, so be it. At least I wouldn’t continue keeping anything from her. Problem was, how to start.

Ten minutes later, the bedsprings squeaked as she stood, pulling me from my thoughts. “Of course I will. You tell Aunt Helen I hope she feels better and give the kids a hug from me, okay?” She nodded as she paced around the room. “Okay, sure. Merry Christmas, Daddy.” Her face lit up as our eyes met. “I will. Love you, too. Bye.”

“Everything good?” I asked, stirring the veggies around on the frying pan. The garlic chicken in the oven was just about ready.

Liz appeared at my side, her breast pressed against my arm. The contact shot through me like a cannon, my body reacting instantly. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “It smells so good.”

“I’m afraid it isn’t very Christmasy. I grabbed whatever I could when we left.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Anything you make will be perfect.” With the phone in her hand, she rubbed my arm reassuringly. As she finished speaking, it began to vibrate. She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Dad probably forgot to tell me something. He always does this.” She walked away to answer, leaving my side tingling. “Oh! Hey bitch,” she answered.

My eyes shot to hers in confusion. Bitch? She laughed and shook her head. “How’s it going,
Kayla
?”

Her tone was so different, I couldn’t help but listen. She didn’t seem to mind, her eyes on me as she spoke, watching me set the table and finish cooking. I could understand pretty much everything just by hearing her side of the conversation.

“Yeah, we’re doing okay…wait, what? When was he there? He didn’t hurt you right, cause if he—right, yeah. Well he can go fuck himself for all I care…yes, I’m serious. Kayla why would I—no, I’m not going to be at the party tonight…because of Rick…I know, I’m sorry. I wish I was there too…yeah, we’re still at the cabin. Bryan’s actually just finishing up dinner so I—Kayla, seriously. I can’t come…please don’t…have a good time for me, okay? Merry Christmas…okay, okay…yes, stop! I’m fine! I’ll call you tomorrow…alright hon, bye.”

Liz sat at the rickety round table with a huff. “That girl, I swear.”

I plated the dinner and carried it over, wishing I at least had a bottle of wine to crack open. “Rick stopped by?”

Liz stabbed the chicken breast with her fork, slicing off a thick piece and popping it into her mouth. “He told her he just wants to talk,” she said around the food. “It’s like she doesn’t even care. She’s more worried that I’m not going to be around for the party.”

“I’m sure she’s worried about you,” I said, not even believing the words as I spoke.

Liz chuckled. “Yeah, okay.”

As we talked during dinner, I kept trying to guide the conversation around so I could come clean. So many times I lost the nerve. How was I supposed to say it? Just blurt it out? I ran it through my mind, but no matter which way I phrased it, it never sounded right.
Hey, so remember a few years ago when a professional skier crashed qualifying for the Olympics and his dad died on the way to the hospital? You must, it was all over the news. Yeah, that’s me.

Before I could summon the courage, we’d both finished eating and I hadn’t said a thing. I cleared the plates and put them in the sink, feeling so dejected. Much to my surprise, I felt two delicate hands circle my waist as I rinsed off the dishes. Liz hugged me from behind, her face pressing against the flat of my back.

“Thank you for making dinner,” she whispered against me. “I figured out what I want for Christmas.” The tone in her voice triggered excitement deep in my core but I tried to calm myself. Not only was she a virgin, she was a virgin running from a crazy ex. I seriously doubted she’d be in the mood, but when I turned and saw the look in her eyes…

“I…uh…” I stammered, my mind turning to mush. I didn’t know what to say as she was gazing up at me through her long eyelashes.

“Come here,” she said taking my hand with a smile. As she led me into the middle of the room, I noticed she’d set up a bunch of pillows and blankets on the floor in front of the fire. I’d been so engrossed in my own thoughts, I hadn’t even heard her do it! She let go of my hand and sat down in the soft nest, patting the space next to her.

My heart thudding in my chest, I sat down. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so nervous. Pulling my knees into the crooks of my elbows, I stared into the fire. Liz slid closer, pulling a blanket around both our shoulders. She rested her head on my shoulder, her soft breath tickling the hair on my arm. I had to tell her. I couldn’t possibly do anything physical with her until—

“The falls were my happy place,” I blurted out. I nearly groaned. Of all the places to start, I had to pick that?

Liz lifted her head and looked at me, but I kept my eyes trained on the flickering flames. “What do you mean?”

“After the accident, when I was going through therapy, I had to picture a happy place. The psychologist told me to pick a place from my life where I’d felt at peace…content, preferably a place I’d visited with my dad.”

“I can see why you picked it,” she said softly. Her hand traveled to my right elbow, squeezing it gently as if encouraging me to continue.

I kissed the top of her head. “I was actually a little nervous today. I haven’t been back here since it happened and it’s always been so special to my family. I hoped you’d see what I see when—”

Liz pulled my arm down and nestled into my chest, lifting her chin to kiss me. She gently sucked on my lower lip, pulling a groan from my throat. Her hand tugged at my hair as her tongue swirled inside my mouth. She pulled away, her lips parted and glistening in the light. “Thank you for sharing it with me.” As she pressed into me once more, I held her back firmly.

“Liz, I really think we—”

She smiled sweetly as she pushed my knees down, swinging her own over me like she was climbing onto the snowmobile. Her smile might’ve been sweet, but look she gave me was downright filthy. I leaned back on my hands as her insistent mouth found mine once more. Her lips were mind-numbingly soft and I couldn’t deny the urgency behind the kiss. My right hand traveled to her lower back, pulling her close, almost on instinct. The sound that came from her lips as she ground against my hard cock nearly wiped all my hesitation away. Somewhere, I managed to find my last ounce of self-control.

“Are you sure?” I managed to say between kisses.

Her lower lip jutted out in a mock pout. “Aren’t you going to give me what I want for Christmas?”

I cocked my head, running a thumb along that lower lip. “You really want me to be the first?” The idea was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. I’d never slept with a virgin before. Any thoughts of telling her about my past had drained away with the rest of the blood in my brain.

“I’m not sure yet. You gotta round the bases,” she said taking my hand from her mouth and guiding it to her waist. “Oh look, you’re taking first.” She giggled as she pushed my hand up her smooth stomach. I caressed her skin as she wiggled free from her hoodie, revealing a sexy lace bra beneath. Her milky skin glowed in the firelight, her eyes glittering like gems. God, she was beautiful. I leaned forward, sliding up her torso to cup her breasts. I held them in each hand, gently kissing the curve of her cleavage. I gathered her in my arms, pulling her into me, burying my face in the soft skin. Her head arched back, the very tip of her ponytail tickling my arms. Her laugh surprised me. It sounded so carefree. My fingers traced the shadows along her neck and collarbone, before finding the thin black strap at her shoulder. She rocked forward and rested a hand on mine.

“My turn.” Her hands gathered the hem of my shirt, pulling it up over my head before I even had a chance to protest. Surprisingly, my first thought wasn’t to hide my scars but of wanting to feel her warmth against me. As her fingers touched the red scars on my shoulder, I waited for the questions to come. Sure, she’d seen them the night before, but with her head a little more clear…but as she often did, Liz surprised me. This felt different. She traced the line of my scar down my shoulder with something akin to reverence. For the first time in years, I started to feel comfortable in my own skin.

I hoped I was putting on a brave face because my stomach felt like a bundle of live wires. I’d wanted to touch those scars from the first night I’d spotted them. There was something about the red lines that drew me in. Maybe it was the way I always treated my own scars…like a sealed window to a deeper, more painful past. As my fingers brushed the raised skin, it was almost like I was touching his accident, feeling the injuries he’d suffered. For a moment, I thought I might be crossing a line.

I glanced up into his eyes, the golden firelight dancing across his features. He smiled reassuringly and a wave of relief washed over me. I hadn’t even considered that he might be self-conscious about them like I was. It wasn’t just his scars I wanted to touch. His body was incredibly toned, hardly an ounce of fat on him. The muscle was lean and lithe, like a swimmer rather than a weightlifter. My fingers traced a line down his pec to the crease of his stomach, running along the hard edge of his abs.

His hands tickled the sensitive skin on my back as I bent to kiss him again. My ponytail swung forward, dipping across his scarred shoulder. As our lips met, Bryan pulled me close against him, our fire-warmed skin pressing together. I groaned into his mouth as I felt his cock stir under me, a building ache in my core screaming to feel him inside me. Still, I wasn’t quite ready to give myself that completely. Not yet.

As the heat built, I steeled myself and leaned back. Taking a deep breath, my eyes locked on his, I reached back and quickly undid the snaps of my bra. In all the times I’d been on stage or in front of another man, I never let them see me completely naked. My heart felt like it was going to fly up my throat, but I swallowed and pulled it off in a quick movement.

Bryan’s warm hands rose to cup my full breasts, his thumbs idly circling my nipples. The surgery had taken much of my sensitivity, but just seeing his affection, feeling this vulnerable, turned me on. With my heavy breasts, the scars wouldn’t be visible unless I laid back, but the scary part was over. I was surprised I wasn’t worried about how they’d feel, if he could tell they were fake. With him, it didn’t matter. The anxiety in my mind began to loosen and I allowed myself to fully revel in the sensations.

His lips rose to my left nipple, kissing it tenderly before gently sucking it into his mouth. I ran my fingers through his brown hair, and my head arched back as his tongue flicked across the tip. I instinctively ground my hips against him, the wetness of my pussy dampening my panties. He groaned as I pressed down, the vibrations traveling across my skin. Bryan looked up, his lips wet and open. I had to have another taste.

As we kissed, I took one of his hands and guided it under the waistband of my yoga pants. With our foreheads pressed together, I whispered, “Second base.” His callused fingers ran along my trimmed hair, gliding along my damp lips with agonizingly slow speed. Our eyes were locked, seeming to glow in the firelight. Tentatively, he slipped one finger along my wet crease, gliding up and down with increasingly long strokes until he paused on my clit. I moaned as his finger swirled over the sensitive skin. With a sly smile, he slipped back down my pussy, his finger teasing my opening. I ground against his hand, dying to feel him inside.

I kissed a path along his neck, biting into his shoulder lightly as his finger finally plunged inside. I could tell he was already coated in my arousal. Rocking against his hand, his thumb stroking my clit with soft circles, I found myself nearing the edge so much faster than I’d anticipated. My lack of inhibitions allowed me to really let loose.

Guiding his hand back out, I pushed him gently back against the pillows so he could rest on his elbows. I shimmied down his legs, tugging at the legs of his sweatpants. “I think we might be nearing third,” I said with a wink.