Snowed In - A Reverse Harem Romance

by Krista Wolf

  “Speak for yourself,” said Jeremy from the other side of me. Now he was reaching for his own coat. “If he’s going out there, he’s not going alone.”

  I struggled to sit up. Everything was going all wrong! None of this made any sense!

  “W—Wait…”

  The shivering that had overtaken my body was only intermittent now. My skin wasn’t wet anymore, and I was finally getting the feeling back in my extremities. “Hang on a minute.”

  The guys looked at me again, and I was suddenly very aware of my state of undress. I was still wearing my shredded ski pants. But from the waist up, only my bra.

  “You shouldn’t go out there,” I told Shane. My eyes were pleading now. “It’s not safe.”

  “Nothing’s safe,” he grunted. “And if you actually heard a helicopter—”

  “I don’t know if I did,” I said quickly.

  “But you think it sounded like one?”

  I paused for a few awkward seconds. I almost even lied.

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  He looked at Jeremy, who returned a crisp nod. “Then we’re going.”

  They stomped off in the direction of the hole I’d just been carried through. I wanted to stop them, to call out to them, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good.

  “The wind’s slowing down,” Shane sneered back at Boone. “Come check for yourself. It’s blowing half as hard as it was an hour ago, and I can see twice as far.”

  “It’s just a break between fronts,” said Boone. “The real storm is rolling in behind it.”

  Jeremy laughed. “Now you’re just making shit up.”

  “I wish I were,” said Boone. “But I’m not. Did you catch the weather the day of the avalanche? Storms all week. A small one, followed by a—”

  “Fuck your storms,” snapped Shane. My eyes shifted to Jeremy, to gauge his reaction. He seemed a lot less sure.

  Boone’s expression hardened. He looked torn between two options; between trying to reason with what were rapidly becoming his adversaries, or just shrugging and turning away.

  “You’re going to die,” he said simply.

  Shane chuckled as he pushed his frat-brother through the opening. “Piss on that,” he snarled.

  Then he stepped through himself, and they were both gone.

  Twenty-One

  MORGAN

  My heart was heavy as I stared out through the swirling, churning opening. I wanted them to come back. Willed them to come back…

  But as the minutes ticked by there was nothing out there but the rise and fall of the howling wind.

  “Did you mean what you said?” I asked Boone. “About a second storm?”

  He nodded, staring blankly into the fire. Slowly he ran one big hand through his thick swath of dark hair.

  “Do you think they’ll be okay?”

  “Not a chance,” he said, without a hint of remorse. “Then again, somehow they made it here. If they’re smart, maybe they’ll realize their foolishness. Stick close to the hotel for a little bit, to save face, then wander back inside.”

  It was something to hope for. I clung to it. If anyone was coming back, it would be Jeremy. Shane would be a tougher sell, especially because coming back early would prove Boone right. But with Jeremy working at him…

  “Come on,” said Boone. “I’ve got something to show you.”

  He stood up, stretching to his full, impressive height. I was mesmerized by the sheer scope of him. As a man he was beyond imposing; at least six-foot four, his body the perfect specimen of size and strength and stamina. And now that he was shirtless, I could see the muscles beneath his bronze skin. Flexing. Rolling…

  He reached out for me with a big, calloused hand, and for a moment I just stared at it. The last thing I wanted to do was leave the fire.

  “Trust me,” Boone said. His mouth curled into the slightest hint of a grin. “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

  Under any other circumstance I’d already be fleeing from a guy like this. I’d be red-faced and embarrassed, running as fast as my legs could carry me in the opposite direction.

  But this wasn’t any ordinary circumstance.

  I took his hand, and let him help me to my feet. Again, I was instantly aware of my semi-nakedness.

  “Our clothes…”

  Both of our shirts lay open on the hearth, spread out before the fire.

  “Leave them,” said Boone. “Let them dry.”

  I allowed him to lead me back through the hotel’s foyer. We passed through a carved wooden arch, into another room the guys and I hadn’t gotten around to exploring yet.

  Already I was almost shivering again. “What was this place?”

  “The hotel lounge,” said Boone. “At least as far as I can tell.”

  The room definitely looked the part. While not as big as the lobby, it had enough room to accommodate a few dozen people at once. An old bar stood on one side, dismally empty, chairs long since gone. There was some kind of a painted mural behind it too, but it was so badly damaged it was impossible to tell what it was.

  “What are we—”

  “Over there,” said Boone, pointing. “The stairwell.”

  We walked halfway across the room together before I realized we were still holding hands. It was unnecessary at this point, obviously. Still, I didn’t want to let go.

  “Aren’t you cold?”

  “For now,” said Boone.

  “So why don’t we just—”

  “You’ll see.”

  Again he led, and I followed. Down into the darkness we went, the stairs creaking loudly beneath our combined weight. We passed into an older section of the hotel, much darker and damper without light filtering in from above. As my eyes adjusted to the shadows, I could make out the shape of a large door at the base of the stairwell.

  “This place was built in the middle of fucking nowhere,” Boone said.

  “You can say that again.”

  “Have you ever wondered why?”

  I shrugged one shoulder.

  “It bothered me at first, that they’d build two hotels. One here, and the other further up and around the other side of the mountain. But exploring the garage and lower levels last night, I realized something. Something about the temperature.”

  Boone opened the door, and a wave of heat washed over us. It felt incredible! Amazing! But it was also very, very bizarre.

  “Go ahead,” he told me. “Follow the light.”

  Apprehensively, I stepped forward and into the lower level. The floor turned from wood to tile. And at the end of the corridor…

  At the end of the corridor was an old oil lamp, dangling from a hook on the wall. A lamp that was lit with a steady, burning flame.

  “How in the—”

  “I slept down here,” Boone explained. “Last night.”

  I advanced forward, fascinated, letting go of his hand. The air in the hallway got even warmer. The floor grew slick. The tiled floor had changed in places to a smooth, flat stone.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked, turning to look back. Wondering if the word ‘hell’ would end up being prophetic, especially considering how hot it was, the deeper we went.

  “Go ahead,” said Boone. “Check it out.”

  His hair was damp now. A bead of sweat threatened to drip off his nose.

  I realized I was no longer cold. My body was flush and warm and pink again, even my fingers, even my toes. Grateful for the comfort, I took another few steps and turned the final corner…

  …and couldn’t help but gasp at what I saw.

  Twenty-Two

  MORGAN

  It wasn’t a room I was looking at anymore — it was an enormous, yawning chamber. The bottom half was tiled in some once-beautiful mosaic pattern, impossible to discern. The rest…

  The rest looked more like a giant cave, hewn straight out of natural rock.

  But the real surprise came as my eyes dropped downward, to where a huge pool of glistening water stretched
from end to end, all the way back to the rear of the cavern. Steam rose up from its placid surface. Steam that fogged the chamber over, making it seem surreal and dreamlike, even while filling it with a wonderful, gratifying warmth.

  I wandered forward, stepping over the smooth tiled floor. I saw benches, built into walls. Long smooth areas made for sitting, even a series of smooth rock steps leading down into the piping hot water.

  “What is all this?”

  “It’s a hot springs,” said Boone. “Naturally heated water coming from some deep, underground source. Apparently they built this place over it, as an attraction. Like a Turkish Bath house, or—”

  “Oh my God, YES!”

  He laughed, and for the first time his laugh was pure and happy. “Yeah, that was my reaction too.”

  Off to the side, I saw a pile of rags that probably used to be towels. There was another oil lamp there too, also lit.

  “This is where you slept?”

  “Yup. I found the lamps down here too.”

  I whirled on him. “Why the hell didn’t you tell us about this place? We could’ve come down here! We could’ve warmed up!”

  He shrugged. “I never got the chance.”

  “But—”

  “Besides,” he said, “getting the fire started was a good idea. When the storm finally dies down, a rescue party might see the smoke. Although by now I’m pretty sure we’ve all been assumed dead.”

  He stepped forward and began pulling off his ski boots. “You hungry?”

  I blinked. My stomach lurched at the mere idea of putting something in it.

  “You have food too?”

  Boone pointed back to the little nest where he’d slept. “There’s a can of—”

  I sprinted over before he even finished his sentence, nearly skidding on the slick tiled floor. A giant can of cling peaches had been torn open with something that obviously wasn’t a can-opener. But inside…

  Inside were big chunks of beautiful, peach-colored goodness.

  Boone called over my shoulder. “Just so you know, the expiration date on that was—”

  “I don’t care!”

  I scooped half a peach into my mouth, savoring the sweet, delicious taste. My jaw was finally happy to have something to crush, my throat something to swallow. Four or five peaches later, my hands and fingers were all covered in sticky syrup. It ran down my chin. My neck…

  “See that other can?”

  I looked to the left, and a second can seemed filled with a dark liquid.

  “Is that…”

  “Water.”

  Thank God!

  I picked up the makeshift cup and drank so fast my throat couldn’t keep up. Water spilled down my face, wetting my chest, soaking my bra. It ran down my stomach and I still didn’t care, I was too focused on drinking as much of the cool, delicious liquid as I could get. When I put the big can down again, it was more than half empty.

  “Sorry,” I said, burping uncontrollably. I took a moment to breathe. “It’s just that—”

  “No worries,” Boone said. “It was only melted snow.”

  I heard a familiar noise: the sound of a long zipper being pulled. When I turned back around, my latest savior was already stepping out of his snow pants.

  “I… I—”

  The first thing I noticed was his tattooed body, all wide on top and chiseled with muscle. Boone’s shoulders were legendary. His chest so perfectly symmetrical that it almost didn’t look real.

  “You what?”

  I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t form words in my head, even. I was just too mesmerized by his majestic beauty. Boone’s ripped stomach ended at a pair of forest green boxer briefs that fit snugly around his trim waist. And below that…

  Below that a significant bulge filled out the rest of his underwear.

  “There’s a box of powdered milk back there,” he added, “and even some lentils and rice. But I haven’t tried any of it yet, so…”

  Suddenly food meant nothing. He looked like he belonged here, the steam rising around him, surrounded by tile and mosaic and stone. Like the statue of some Roman God, in the belly of some ancient Roman bath.

  Then he dropped his boxers too, and my heart leapt into my throat.

  Oh my God…

  He was totally naked now.

  My eyes dropped daringly to his crotch, but he’d already turned away. Instead I ogled the most beautifully-rounded ass I’d ever seen on a man, two muscular spheres that flexed powerfully as he stepped downward, into the pool.

  “You coming?”

  The water was up to his knees, then his thighs, then his waist. Boone launched himself into the pool, sighing mightily as it washed over him up to his shoulders.

  He turned to regard me with a broad smile. His eyes were so full of pure joy and delicious contentment I began pulling my own boots off immediately.

  “That’s the spirit.”

  My shredded ski pants came next, and then my socks. I walked barefoot across the floor, then gingerly tested the temperature of the water with my big toe.

  HOLY SHIT!

  I plunged in immediately, going ankle-deep on the first step. The water had to be close to a hundred degrees — the absolute perfect temperature. The second step came up to my thighs, and I nearly fainted. It felt so good!

  “Ahem…”

  Boone cleared his throat, causing me to glance over at him.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  He made a motion with his hand, pointing to my bra, my panties.

  “What?”

  “Your underwear.”

  My heart skipped. “Yeah, so?”

  “You’re really going to wear it?”

  I could feel my whole body flush red from head to toe in embarrassment. Or maybe it was just the heat.

  “Well I didn’t exactly remember my swimsuit.”

  Boone splashed his way toward me. The water gathering around his huge tattooed shoulders made him look even more magnificent.

  “Me neither.”

  I was so nervous I was shaking, and for the first time I couldn’t blame the cold. My legs felt like jelly. I could feel his eyes, crawling their way over my body, following every swell, every curve. His mouth spread into a smile of approval at what he saw.

  “What, you’re suddenly modest?” he quipped. “It’s not like your underwear covers much of anything anyway.”

  He was right about that. Still…

  “Want me to turn around? I’ll turn around.”

  He spun in the water, until he was facing the back wall. Even from the back he looked gorgeous. I hesitated for a second longer. Two seconds. Three…

  Then I unclipped my bra, stepped out of my panties…

  And leapt into the watery arms of the most blissful hot tub in the entire fucking world.

  Twenty-Three

  MORGAN

  The swirling water of the hot springs welling up around my naked body didn’t just feel good — it was orgasmic. Like being born again, as an all new person. Rejuvenated. Refreshed…

  Reset.

  All the dirt and grime fell away from my skin, even the caked-on soot I’d picked up in the chimney. For a moment or two I just lay there, letting the heavenly heat soak into my body. It drove out every last remnant of the bone-numbing cold, even the chill that seemed to reside in my very marrow. Nothing ever felt as good as this. Not even the dozens of hot tubs I’d sunk into at the end of a long, hard day of skiing.

  “Holy shit, this is baptismal.”

  Boone merely smiled back at me from across the pool. He was in a deeper area, near the back of the cave. Eventually he motioned me over, and I swam to him.

  All at once my feet no longer touched the smooth tiled bottom. Instead, they were ensconced in mud.

  “What the—”

  “The front half of the pool is man-made,” Boone explained. “The other half is where the springs well up.” He reached down with one arm and came back with a handful of mud.


  “Yuck.”

  “No,” he said. “Not yuck.” Using his fingers, he smeared two streaks across his stubbled cheek. It somehow looked fitting there. Fitting and masculine, like war paint.

  “These places are popular around here,” he said. “People think the mud has healing properties. They smear it all over themselves.” He held his hand out, offering some mud in my direction.

  “No thanks,” I smiled.

  Boone shrugged his massive shoulders. “Too bad. It’d look cute on you.”

  Again I flushed, even under the tiny compliment. This time though, there was no way to tell.

  “Listen,” I said, floating awkwardly before him. “I haven’t really thanked you for saving me.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  “Well… thanks.” I fumbled for more words. “If you hadn’t gone out there, and pulled me off that roof…”

  “There would be one less cute girl on this ski trip?”

  My stomach fluttered. If this guy — this amazing, incredible guy — was actually flirting with me…

  “Besides,” he said, “we’re gonna need a buffer between me and the bozo-brothers. If they come back that is.”

  “Aw, come on,” I sighed. “They’re not that bad.”

  “They’re not?”

  “No. They’re just… I guess they’re just threatened by you.”

  “Funny. I never threatened them.”

  Boone leaned back until he was sitting down in some natural stone seat. He raised his massive arms out of the water and placed each one on the ledge behind him.

  “You know what I mean,” I said. “Look at you. You’re intimidating.”

  “Am I?” He shifted, and rows of striated muscle flexed beneath his smooth, unblemished skin. “Do you feel intimidated by me?”

  “Well, no. But—”

  “And you’re a girl,” he added. “Believe me, I checked. I snuck a peek while you were dropping your thong.”

  I floundered, and water entered my mouth. I choked so hard I nearly spat all over him.

  “Pretty sure it was a thong. Might’ve been a G-string.” He flashed me a wry grin. “Anyway yeah, I’ve known them for as long as I’ve know you. And you don’t seem intimidated at all. Which makes them—”