by Anna Daye
Contents
Title Page
Blurb
Copyright
Dedication
Snowed In
Sneak Peek of Alison's Awakening
About the Author
SNOWED IN
Anna Daye
BLURB
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 contemporary erotic romance short story. It is not intended for younger readers due to mature content. *
5,400 words.
**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.
Copyright © 2013 by Anna Daye. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
Visit the author’s website at www.annadaye.com
Edited by QuickQuill Editing
Cover design by DigiNamba Design
First Edition July 2013
For my readers.
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.
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 not 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 in 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 reappeared.
“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 o
ther 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 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.
“I think you’re lying,” he murmured.
Yeah, she was lying, but lying was her last defense. This was such a terrible idea. Sure, it could be amazing, but how likely was that—beyond the sex? There would be fallout. Consequences. God, he smelled good.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Despite her words, she took a deep breath, taking in his scent. She hadn’t thought it possible to get even more turned on, but his smell pulled at something in her. Something basic and needful and hungry.
Bryan seemed undeterred by her words. He slid the back of his fingers down her upper arm, and the touch sent a current straight through to her sex.
“Let me lay it all out here for you, Carrie. I don’t know why—it makes no logical sense—but I find you goddamned fascinating for some reason. I can’t seem to get you out of my head.”
Couldn’t get her out of his head? The words didn’t compute in her mind—they didn’t make logical sense. She’d never even suspected. But now the thought wouldn’t leave her. What would it be like to be with this domineering, arrogant, sexy man?
Screw it. She wanted—needed—to know the answer to that question. It wasn’t like she had anything to lose. They weren’t friends—they barely got along well enough to make nice for David and Stacy. What did she have to lose?
Nothing.
That thought in mind, she kissed him. Just a soft press of her lips against his. The kiss changed, but not how she’d expected. He was such a take-charge kind of a guy, the type of man who didn’t ask permission. But he wasn’t aggressive in his kiss. Instead, his mouth pressed almost softly against hers, and his tongue slid along her lips, testing, before withdrawing so his lips could pull at hers again. His breath quickened, and her pulse jumped in response. Gently, he cupped the side of her jaw with one hand and deepened the kiss.
It was the most sensual kiss she’d ever experienced.
She wanted more.
He moved down to kiss and nibble his way down her neck, and a soft moan escaped her. Breasts suddenly heavy and achy, with every movement her nipples rubbed against her bra, pebbling, and so sensitive it was almost painful.
His hand trailed lightly over her stomach to tease the edge of her breast. Wordlessly, he pulled her sweater over her head. Not only did she let him, she found herself squirming to get out of the garment faster.
How had things changed so quickly? She tried to grasp them, but her mind wouldn’t focus. He caressed her arm before gently cupping her breast. His mouth took hers as he thumbed her nipple through her thin bra.
Sensation robbing her of thought, she deepened the kiss, mind shying away from examining how much she needed him in this moment. His well-muscled body was hard beneath her hands, and she explored him as well as she could over his T-shirt. He broke the kiss.
“Fuck, Carrie.”
The heavy need in his voice made her pussy clench, and she shifted in her seat.
“Me, too,” she managed.
“Do you want me this badly, I wonder?” He gripped her wrist and pulled her hand to him. For a split second, she wasn’t sure what he was doing. Then she felt him, his cock hard as stone in his pants under her hand, straining against his jeans. And the knowledge that she’d done that to him filled her with a rush of confidence. She squeezed the bulge, eliciting a quick intake of breath from him.
“Maybe you should check,” she said.
He cursed under his breath and then she was standing up, holding onto his shoulders for balance, while he pulled her pants down—paint-spotted jeans that he should have been making fun of her for wearing, not yanking off of her desperately. She stepped out of t
hem with one foot and then kicked them away.
Before she could sit back down, he tugged her against him. His erection pressed into her stomach, long and hard. And when he kissed her, the testing was gone. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, devouring her and giving no quarter. She kissed him back, just as eagerly, her arms seeming to find their own way around his neck, holding him to her.
Just as suddenly as he kissed her, he pulled back.
“Fair’s fair,” he murmured against her lips. He slid his hand down her side before caressing her thigh. Slowly—so slowly—he slid his hand up to touch her throbbing sex over her thong.
“Fuck. You’re soaking wet. So fucking hot, too.”
She gasped as he rubbed her clit through her panties with the back of his fingers.
“I wish I could see you. See your expression clearly when you make noises like that.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing you, too. Something other than that smug grin you’re always giving me.” She squeezed his erection and he chuckled.
“What can I say? I can’t resist irritating you.”
Then they were both undressing, as if a message had passed silently between them, announcing that clothes were no longer needed.
But what she’d said was true, seeing him now might give her confidence that she was doing the right thing—or that she wasn’t. Not to mention that she’d glimpsed him in a bathing suit before, and it was quite a sight. The idea of seeing him standing there, awesome body and cock hard and heavy for her made her mouth water.
“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” she blurted out. Even wanting him as much as she did, a niggling of doubt refused to leave her.
“Yes,” he said, softly, jerking her gaze to his face. But she couldn’t make out his expression in the darkness around them, just the shape of his well-muscled form. “If it’s what you want, this can just be about tonight. We can go back to hating each other in the morning. If that’s what you want.”