A Week in the Snow

by Gwen Masters

  Happy to find a kindred spirit, Rebecca started to talk, telling him all about the pictures she had taken on her way up to Iowa. When she told him about the gorgeous mellow light of southern Illinois, and the juxtaposition of an old, weathered silo beside a tall and modern windmill, she came alive with passion for what she did. She told him about taking pictures of kids who didn’t want to have their pictures taken, or about taking pictures of CEOs for their company brochures, and explained how those were the things that paid the bills—the real thrill was in the creative work, and she was becoming better at it every day, and making a name for herself.

  He told her about the paper, about finding a niche that allowed him to compete with the huge papers in Des Moines, and how he loved to write about the most unexpected things. Sometimes he came across a difficult or even heartbreaking story, but he tried to write it in such a way that the townspeople were inspired to help, as they so often did. He talked about going to college and planning on being in the big leagues, but after a few years spent at the Chicago Tribune, he’d decided the smaller towns and simpler life were what suited him best.

  Over eggs and bacon and toast they got to know each other, and by the time the plates were clean they were talking about everything under the sun. Their common ground had broken the ice.

  Then Richard asked her if she had made that call last night, and if her boyfriend was worried. A dark shadow descended in her eyes.

  “He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

  Richard raised an eyebrow in surprise. “That was fast.”

  “It was long overdue.”

  “I’m sorry, regardless.”

  Rebecca’s smile was sad. “It was my choice.”

  An awkward silence took over. Richard started to clear the table of their plates. He had no idea what it was like to make the choice to end a relationship, because he hadn’t been the one to end his. Amanda had taken off for parts unknown and left him with very little choice in the matter.

  “Does that make it easier?” he asked. “That it was your choice?”

  Rebecca sighed. “No.”

  Richard set the plates in the sink and ran hot water over them. He opened the dishwasher. Rebecca watched him as he moved. His motions were deliberate, but not slow. He seemed the kind of man who wanted to make sure a job was done right the first time. His body was long and just slightly overweight, but not enough to detract from how handsome he was. His brown hair was cut close to his head, his face neatly shaven. He looked like an accountant, or a banker, or exactly what he was—the editor of a newspaper.

  When he looked at her the way he had over those plates, studying her and completely absorbed by what she was telling him, his eyes lit up and made him look much sexier than he first appeared.

  She contemplated this as he refilled her coffee mug and started the dishwasher. When there was nothing left in the kitchen to do, he rested against the counter and looked at her. They studied each other openly, without any words, while the sunlight streamed in from the wide windows.

  “I might try to go into town today,” he said, almost to himself. “I’m sure there are things you need, either from your car or from the store.”

  “Yes, but there’s no hurry.”

  “Want to see the rest of the house?” he asked, suddenly remembering he hadn’t shown her where things were.

  Rebecca rose from the kitchen table. When she walked past him into the hallway, he caught a whiff of her hair, clean and smelling of his own shampoo. For no reason whatsoever his heart began to pound and certain other parts of him began to respond in kind. He tried to think of anything else, but the images of his fantasy from the night before came back with a vengeance.

  As she looked over the dining room he wondered, for the briefest of moments, what it would be like to bend her over the table.

  Rebecca didn’t think anything out of the ordinary until they went up the stairs, where they looked at his office—quite messy compared with the rest of the house—another large bathroom, and the bedroom where Richard slept.

  He hadn’t intended to show her the room, but she opened the door as he motioned towards it, and what was he supposed to do? Shout out for her to stop? She stood in the doorway and looked at his most private space. The bed was unmade and the pillow still held the indentation of his head. On the bedside table were a small lamp and a few books, and beside the bed was a bookcase, every available inch crammed with the printed word. The door to the closet was open and, though clothes were hung neatly on the bar inside, the floor of the closet was covered with clothing, obviously waiting for a washing machine.

  Rebecca grinned when she saw that, and she turned to make a funny comment to Richard about it. But before she could say anything, she suddenly realised they were standing in his bedroom door, and he was looking down at the floor, shy and uncertain, almost like a schoolboy who had been caught doing something wrong.

  God, she wanted him.

  The thought came out of nowhere and made her forget what she was going to say. She immediately began to discount that moment of attraction. He had saved her life, so of course she should be attracted to him, right? Besides that, she had intended to spend the evening with Gene last night, getting laid in every position imaginable and some that were not, and her body had been amped up with anticipation for weeks. Richard was the man who happened to be there, and her body was still craving a touch…so it made sense, right?

  She had almost talked herself out of it. She had almost regained her composure. Then she chanced a look at Richard again.

  He was staring at her with raw, untempered lust.

  Rebecca actually took a step back from that gaze, startled by it, but more shocked by her own reaction—her body tingled in the most inappropriate places.

  Richard immediately looked away. They stood together at the threshold of his bedroom, neither of them sure what to say. The longer the silence stretched, the guiltier Richard felt. He took a step back from her, then another, using distance as a barrier.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I haven’t had a woman in this room in years.”

  Rebecca stared at him for a moment longer, her thoughts running rampant. He wasn’t denying what she had seen, and strangely enough that thrilled her. Most men would have hemmed and hawed and tried to cover up what they had just done, but Richard didn’t make an attempt. Instead of being offended by the way he had looked at her, she found herself impressed by what his response told her.

  Richard was an honest man.

  And, after all, hadn’t she been thinking the same things?

  “Thank you,” she said.

  The words from her made Richard look up. He gave her a grin. “I told you to stop doing that.”

  “Thank you for being honest with me.”

  Richard shook his head, amazed that he wasn’t on the receiving end of a lecture. He deserved a good slap for the lecherous way he had eyed her. “You did catch me in the act, Rebecca. I wouldn’t insult you by telling you otherwise.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly, “for looking at me that way.”

  Now the silence came from Richard’s side of the conversation, and the blush came from Rebecca. He studied her for a while, not sure what to say, so he did the only thing that felt right. He said the things that sprang to mind, all of them the truth. “It really has been a long time. Years. To see a beautiful woman in my bedroom after all that time, well…that makes me remember what I’ve been missing.”

  Rebecca blushed harder when he said she was beautiful. “I’ve been missing it, too.”

  “But you said you had a boyfriend?”

  Ah, here was the tricky part, the thing she didn’t know how to explain.

  “I had a boyfriend for a while,” she said. “But we never actually slept together.”

  Richard blinked at her for a moment, taking that in. “How is that possible?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “We met over the Internet.”

  It all became clear to Richard then
. He had never had a true relationship blossom over an Internet line, but there were people he talked to on the phone quite often for business, people he had never seen before, and he knew little details of their lives—the names of their kids, for instance. Over time, he came to care about them, and never failed to ask how their lives were going outside of work. He knew how easily a cordial discussion could turn personal, and how natural it was to come to care for someone, even if he had never met them in the flesh.

  “I understand.”

  Rebecca didn’t say anything else. She stood there, staring at Richard, thinking things she knew she probably shouldn’t be thinking. She waited until he met her eyes, then she gave him a small smile.

  “I know it might be too forward…” she started, but found she couldn’t go on. My God, what was wrong with her?

  She let the words hang there between them and watched as his mind caught up to what the rest of the sentence would have been. She watched as he considered how to answer.

  The meaning behind her words plunged Richard into a sea of confusion. He was still married, wasn’t he? Just because his wife had been gone for three years didn’t mean he wasn’t still bound to her, by the laws of both God and man. But it had been such a long time, and often he wondered if his wife had slept with someone else in the time she had been gone. In fact, more and more he wondered if her version of “finding herself” had more to do with spending time with someone else. That would never excuse him from doing the same thing…or would it?

  Especially if nobody would ever know.

  Rebecca was offering him a few stolen moments of passion—if he was reading her right, that was—and what was wrong with accepting something that would make him feel more alive than he had in a very long time?

  “It might not be too forward,” Richard finally said.

  Rebecca wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. What in the world was she thinking? She suddenly buried her face in her hands and let out a nervous, high laugh. “I have no idea where that came from,” she said.

  “Please don’t apologise.”

  “It just popped out.”

  “Rebecca.”

  She dropped her hands and looked at him. He reached out and touched her for the first time since he had pulled her from her car. His hand caressed the side of her face.

  Overcome by the simplest touch, she turned her face into his palm and breathed of his skin.

  This was all kinds of wrong. Wasn’t it?

  “Yes,” she said.

  Richard couldn’t believe his ears.

  “Do you want this?”

  She took a deep breath.

  “Yes.”

  The answer was so simple, so easy and so completely crazy. She wasn’t this kind of woman, and she was pretty sure he wasn’t this kind of man, but with the bed only a few steps away and his warm hand touching her so gently, it suddenly seemed like the sanest thing in the world.

  Richard paused, not sure how to say what was on his mind, but certain it had to be said before he lost himself in her the way he really wanted to. “I told you it’s been a long time,” he reminded her. “I’m not…prepared.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I am.”

  Richard moved closer to her, unsure how to go about what he wanted, but Rebecca had no such qualms. She put a warm hand on the back of his neck, tilted her head up and pressed her lips to his.

  The touch of a woman had been missing from his life for longer than he liked to think about, and now the return of it made his heart pound. He actually went weak in the knees, a fact that would have amused him greatly if it were any other time. He wrapped his arms around her to keep some sense of equilibrium. Her body nestled against him like it was meant to be there, and when she slipped her tongue into his mouth they both moaned with the pleasure of it.

  The memory of the night before came to Richard, when he had thought about her as the orgasm overtook him. He had never imagined then what would be happening now: the woman he had fantasised about taking his hand and leading him to his bed.

  She sank down on the mattress and pulled him to stand in front of her. She bent her head and rested her forehead against his belly, her hands on his thighs. She sat there for a long moment, breathing deeply, while he ran his fingers through her hair. He made no move to rush her. When she ran her hands up his thighs and found the buckle of his belt, he pulled his T-shirt over his head. Rebecca pushed his jeans down his legs and smiled at how ready and willing he was. She licked her lips and looked up at him with wild eyes.

  “How long did you say it had been?” she asked directly, and he blushed as he thought of the answer.

  “Over three years.”

  Rebecca was surprised, but a part of her was delighted. After so long without the touch of a woman, he would respond to every breath and kiss as though it was food to a desperately hungry man. All her hesitation fled as she thought about how much they would both enjoy this.

  She moved to the edge of the bed, grabbed his ass with her hands and pulled him forward into her wet, open mouth. At the first taste of him she thought of Gene, expecting a tiny sliver of guilt at the very least. There was none—and so she took Richard deeper into her mouth, tasting more.

  Richard shuddered at the first touch, then groaned as her mouth enveloped his dick, swallowing him so much deeper than he expected. She bent her head a bit and worked him deeper, sliding her tongue around the bottom of his shaft, stroking him with it. He threw his head back and his fingers tangled in her hair.

  He thought of Amanda then, the wife he hadn’t seen in over three years. She was the last one who had done this to him, back when he had thought everything was fine, back when he had believed that forever really meant something. The guilt rose up in him but on the heels of it came the anger.

  She could have been here, he thought. She chose not to be.

  Richard then stopped thinking at all, because Rebecca was doing wicked things that demanded attention. She started to bob up and down, sucking him hard at the tip before plunging the length of cock back into her mouth. Soon his manhood was slick, and she was stroking him with her hand as her mouth sucked at his crown. Richard’s legs started to tremble. The approaching orgasm promised to be a very, very good one.

  “Rebecca,” he managed to say. “I’m going to come.”

  She stopped moving her mouth but her hand kept up that same rhythm, holding him right on the edge. “I’m going to swallow it.”

  He almost came right then, and probably would have, if she hadn’t suddenly squeezed his cock. The orgasm backed away a bit, but came roaring back to life when she lowered her mouth on to him again, this time gliding faster, making her intentions very clear. She grabbed his hips hard as he started to thrust against her, his dick going a little deeper into her mouth each time. He couldn’t have stopped her even if he’d tried—she obviously wanted his cum and she was going to get it.

  That’s what sent him over the edge. He came hard, his cock pumping almost painfully into her, sending warm jets of semen down her throat. She swallowed and he could feel it, a soft spasm around the tip of his dick. He leaned on her and held on to her hair as the last pulses of his orgasm faded away. She swirled her tongue around his dick as she pulled back, leaving him cool and damp in the warm air between them.

  “That was…” he began, then laughed instead.

  Rebecca laughed too, even as she lay back and hauled him on to the bed with her. “That was just a preview.”

  She kissed him until they were both breathless. Then she gently put her hand on his chest and pushed him away.

  “Give me one minute,” she said. “I will definitely be back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  She giggled and kissed his nose. “Just a second.”

  She rose from the bed and disappeared around out the door. Richard smiled up at the ceiling and tried to catch his breath. Before he could start to think about what had just happened, Rebecca appeared with her small purse. She sa
t it down next to the bed and crawled onto the mattress beside him.

  “So, where were we?” she asked.

  Richard rose above her and started working the buttons of her shirt. His hands shook and she laughed again, then pushed his eager fingers away and did the work herself. The shirt came off and so did the jeans, pushed down her legs by Richard before she kicked them to the floor. She was wearing nothing underneath the clothes, and Richard sighed in approval as he looked down at her body for the first time.

  Her nipples were hard. Richard touched them gently at first, but when she smiled at him he touched them harder, and finally she arched up under him and made a low sound in her throat. It was an animal growl, nothing like the sweet woman she seemed to be. She blushed even as she told him what she wanted. “Like that.”

  He pinched her nipples between his fingers and rolled them, sending little shockwaves through her body, as if a direct line connected her nipples to her clit. She was already wet from sucking him off, but the rough treatment of her nipples made her even wetter. It had been over a year since she had got off with anything other than a toy or her own hand, and she wanted nothing more than to lay back and let him do whatever he pleased, so long as she came at the end, and came hard.

  Richard hovered over her, watching every reaction. He loved the way her nipples got even harder as he pinched them, and the way her chest flushed red, as if a fever were glowing within. She tried to open her legs but he sat on top of her, trapping her thighs between his knees, forcing her to keep them closed. The restraint, even as gentle as it was, wreaked havoc on her. When he slid a fingertip down between her breasts and headed for her belly, the little muscles there jumped in anticipation.

  His tongue swirled around one of her nipples, and Rebecca cried out with the pleasure. That line between pussy and nipple tightened even more, until her body was primed and her emotions were raw.

  “Fuck me,” she growled, and in answer Richard licked down her belly, finally freeing her thighs as he moved down. She opened her legs and he immediately put his hands on her knees, pushing her legs wider apart, until she was spread open for him.