A Week in the Snow

by Gwen Masters

  And then?

  Rebecca stared at the snow until Richard pushed the button that lowered the garage door. They were left in utter darkness. She listened to him as he moved towards her, the rustling sound of his coat the only indication of his movement. When he wrapped his arms around her from behind, she bit her lip and fought the urge to cry.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she murmured.

  “Maybe there’s nothing wrong at all.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not usually this emotional.”

  “I knew seeing your car again would be emotional for you. Maybe this is part of it.”

  “It’s not the car,” she whispered. She turned in Richard’s arms and found his lips in the darkness. “It’s not the car.”

  He kissed her back. “What is it, then?”

  “I’m jealous.”

  The admission was like fuel to a fire. His desire for her blazed brighter than before, something he hadn’t thought possible. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to the door of the garage, fumbling with the doorknob until she moved ahead of him and opened it for him.

  They burst into the kitchen and immediately he took her down to the floor, where she rolled on top of him and reached for the snap of his jeans. Richard kicked them down, even as she stood above him and stripped out of her clothes. There was the sound of a seam ripping, a zipper opening, a swish of fabric on the tile floor, then she was on top of him, guiding him into her with one deep thrust.

  At the now-familiar sensation of his cock impaling her as deeply as it could, Rebecca took a deep breath. She began to rock back and forth. There was no gentleness to her as she rode him, and when Richard reached up to touch her, she yanked his hand away. She looked right into his eyes as she slid her pussy up and down his cock.

  “You’re mine,” she hissed. “For the rest of my time here, I’m going to fuck you so often and so hard that you won’t look at another woman for months.”

  The warmth of her words flooded Richard. It was the balm he had always wanted, but had never really had, even when he’d worn his wedding band. “Show me.”

  She sat straight up and ground down hard. Her nails found his chest and drew sharp lines, taking away his breath and leaving raised welts on his skin. He thrust up into her from the floor, raising her up on his hips, and she pounded back so hard it hurt them both. The intensity of the physical taking pushed Richard quickly to his limits.

  “I’m going to come.”

  “Good,” she said. “Say my name when you do it.”

  “Rebecca.”

  “More.”

  “Rebecca. Rebecca…Becca…”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to come…”

  When he did come, he didn’t hold back. He shouted her name as his cock twitched and spurted into her. She rocked hard on him, getting the most out of it, and when she felt the heat of him flooding her, she reached down between them, touched her swollen clit in just the right way, and came with him. Her pussy tightened on his dick as she threw her head back and cried out, her fingernails bringing blood from his shoulders, her whole body rigid, every muscle tense.

  When it was over she sat on him and looked down into his eyes. Neither of them smiled. Neither of them knew what to say.

  Finally she stood on shaky legs. He sat up and looked around at the kitchen as though he had never seen it before. He held on to the table as he stood, almost afraid his knees wouldn’t hold him, his hand smarting with the motion. As soon as he let go of the polished wood, Rebecca flung her arms around him, almost knocking him back down to the floor.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, though she had no idea what she was thanking him for.

  Chapter Seven

  The sun came through the windows the next morning, waking Rebecca first. She lay in bed beside Richard and listened to his light, rhythmic snoring. He was on his belly, the covers pulled up to his shoulders. His bandaged hand rested on the pillow beside his head. He had got up twice in the night for pain pills, and each time he had woken her up just to hold her, kiss her and cradle her until they both fell asleep again. Now she smiled at him in the early morning light, tempted to kiss his temple but not ready to wake him just yet.

  If she listened closely, she could hear cars passing slowly on the road in front of the house.

  The snowploughs had come through during the night and cleared the snow away. She wondered about her car, if it had been hauled out by some anonymous driver, or if it was still buried in the snowdrifts. Today she would have to make arrangements to have it taken to a shop for repairs.

  Then she would have to think about leaving, and getting back home to Miami.

  The thought sobered her and her smile disappeared. She tried to imagine what life would be like when she returned to the sunny south. She would go on with her work, keep her appointments, and keep trying to find that perfect shot in the frame of her lens. She would ignore Gene’s calls—she knew there would be several, because he wouldn’t give up without a fight—and she would eventually contemplate getting involved with someone else.

  The idea seemed so distant, almost ludicrous, as she lay in bed beside Richard. She was having the time of her life here in Iowa, and she was in no hurry to see it end. The fact that it would end was something she was just now starting to face, and already she didn’t like the way it felt. She couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much, and the thought of this happy vacation ending was more than she wanted to bear on a bright, sunny morning filled with such promise.

  Richard stirred under the blanket and turned his face towards her. He didn’t wake up, and Rebecca took her time studying him: the long, black lashes, the curve of his mouth, the two-day stubble on his face. She knew well what that mouth felt like against hers. She knew the roughness of his face and the looks he could shoot her with his eyes. She knew the way his hand trembled when he was close to an orgasm, and the way his voice dropped when he was out of his depth.

  Who was to say she didn’t know him?

  Rebecca watched him until her own eyes became heavy. She fell asleep again and when she awoke the second time Richard was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her with a smile on his face. She didn’t move, accustomed by now to the way he loved to stare, and let him study her as long as he wanted.

  “I want to take pictures of you,” he said.

  She raised an eyebrow. “What kind of pictures?”

  “Naked ones.”

  She laughed and buried her face in the pillow. Richard kissed the back of her shoulder.

  “I have to go to the office. The newspaper must go on, even if I want a week off.”

  She watched him as he dressed—or tried to, anyway. His hand gave him trouble, and he stopped after he shrugged into his shirt, retreating to the bathroom for more pain pills. When he came back to the bedroom, she was waiting to help him with the buttons on his shirt. He wore slacks, which actually looked better on him than the jeans did, if such a thing were possible. She buttoned those for him, too. He found his watch and couldn’t get it on without hurting his hand. So he handed it to Rebecca, who put it on his wrist as casually as if she had done it a thousand times.

  They looked at each other after she had done it, and Richard was the first to speak.

  “Come to the office with me.”

  She slowly shook her head. “I don’t know that it’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it will raise questions.”

  “Of course it will. I can handle those.”

  It wasn’t just the questions that would come from the townsfolk who saw them together. It was also the fact that Rebecca wasn’t sure she wanted to see another aspect of Richard’s life. She already knew it would be easier to let him go at the end of the week if she could convince herself it was nothing but a fling, nothing but sex between two people who needed a touch. The deeper she delved into his life, she more she wanted to learn.

  The more she knew
about him, the more she had to miss.

  “I think I should stay here,” she said. “I need to make calls to get the car out of the ditch, first of all, then I need to talk to my insurance company, and then…”

  “You can do all that from my office.”

  She gave him a desperate look, unsure how to explain her fears. “No.”

  Richard stared at her, dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events.

  “Rebecca?”

  She held up a hand and shook her head, willing him to stop. She couldn’t make him understand without breaking down into tears, and she already knew how that would go over. He would talk her into telling him everything, then he would convince her it would be all right, and she would believe him because she wanted to, not because it made sense.

  It was going to hurt so badly when she had to leave.

  “I’m not going to shut up,” he insisted. “I want to know what’s going on with you.”

  “I’m telling you, I want to stay here.”

  “Yesterday, you were so interested in everything…and now you’re hiding.”

  She refused to answer. Richard pushed it.

  “Why?”

  She climbed out of bed and grabbed at her shirt, trying to cover herself. Richard caught her in mid-stride and pushed her back on to the bed, where she bounced once before looking up at him in amazement. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Don’t turn this around on me,” he said.

  “You don’t understand,” she said, wanting to make him see her point, but she didn’t know where to begin.

  “You’re not going to do this. You’re not retreating into a shell.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re not the only one who is scared to death,” he said.

  The roughness of his voice—that almost desperate sound—was enough to take her breath away. Rebecca closed her eyes and listened as his words rained around her.

  “Don’t you think I wonder what it’s going to be like at the end of this week? That I would give anything to be able to ask you to stay for another week, and then maybe another, and get to know you in every way I can, not just while we’re naked?”

  Rebecca’s heart started to pound. Her eyes flew open. “What did you say?”

  “You act like I’m taking this casually,” he said. “I’m not. I said I don’t do this kind of thing, and I meant every word of it. I’m not the kind of man who lets a woman in like I’ve let you, and then lets her walk away without at least trying to see what could be there.”

  “It’s just sex,” she insisted.

  “It was never just sex,” he shot back.

  Rebecca started to tremble. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, hiding her body from him. It was a natural reaction to an emotional upheaval. How had this happened to her? She didn’t know him a week ago, and now she was already dreading what it would be like to miss him.

  If it wasn’t just sex, then what was it, exactly?

  “You’ve had a long-distance boyfriend before,” he said. “It’s not like it would be new…”

  Richard stopped, realising what he had just said. Was he really asking her for a commitment? Was he really pushing that far? And what right did he have, the man who was still married to someone else, even if his wife hadn’t been around in years? He hadn’t filed divorce papers, and, even worse, he hadn’t told Rebecca about the woman who was between them. She was there, just as surely as a physical presence, and until she knew the truth it was entirely unfair to ask her to continue in any sort of relationship, emotional or otherwise.

  But he couldn’t make the words come. He couldn’t tell her.

  “Are you serious?” she was asking him now, and he looked into her wide blue eyes.

  “Yes.”

  The word sent shockwaves through both of them. She stared at him, taking in the word and the possibility. How crazy was it that she had wound up in this man’s bed in the first place? Nothing could trump that kind of insanity, yet here she was, considering how Richard might fit into her life. Rebecca was never one given to snap decisions, and certainly not decisions on affairs of the heart made within just a few days, but damned if she wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of having Richard for more than just her time here in Iowa.

  He stood before her with his heart on his sleeve and his secret beating a tattoo of fear across his world. If he told her, he would lose her. He knew that as surely as he knew she would eventually leave his house and go back to her life in Miami. He knew that no matter what kind of distance there was between them when she was over a thousand miles away, it couldn’t compare to the distance he put there himself by not telling her the truth.

  She thought he was an honest man, didn’t she? Once she knew he had hidden something from her, she would never be willing to believe the rest of what she had learned about him. He would lose value in her eyes and he would never be able to regain it.

  “You’re right,” she said, and Richard was startled out of his thoughts.

  “What?”

  “You’re right. I’ve had no problem with a long-distance relationship before.”

  Hope flooded Richard, as thick and strong as the guilt that was already there. “You mean…”

  “I mean, yes. Yes. Let’s see where this goes, Richard.”

  He crawled into the bed beside her, held her head in his hands, and kissed her until the thoughts of his wife and all the things he hadn’t told her were chased away by the passion he felt for Rebecca. When he reached between her legs and tried to entice her into letting him do more, she laughed and pushed his hand away.

  “I’m going to make you wait,” she teased.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s fun.”

  She gave him a mischievous grin, and he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of fun would happen after she had made him wait all day long. “Can we get out the toy chest tonight?”

  “Now you’re reading my mind.”

  He was hard already, straining against the fabric of his slacks. “I have to try to write stories for the paper while you’re right in front of me? And then watch you take pictures while I want you so bad I could bend you over the nearest park bench and ram you in front of God and everybody?”

  “Yes.”

  He almost groaned at the idea of Rebecca spread out over a park bench. “We had better get to the office, then, because I want to get this day over with.”

  She swung her legs over the bed and stretched, arching her back and showing off her breasts. Richard swallowed hard as he looked at the pert nipples, already hard and taunting. She stepped towards him until those nipples were tugging at the fabric of his shirt. “Let me go get a shower.”

  He watched her sashay into the bathroom. When the water started, he sank down on the bed and put his head in his hands. His body throbbed for attention. His mind was racing.

  His hand ached. His heart was full with happiness and sick with dread.

  “It’s going to be a very long day,” he murmured to the pillows.

  For the first time in his life, working was torture. His hand hurt—that was the first thing to become apparent. No amount of painkiller kept it from aching as he tried to type, and that alone put him on edge.

  It wasn’t just his hand that caused him problems, though. He had to sit at the computer and put together articles while the woman beside him kept whispering naughty things into his ear. When he started to work on the story about the town’s annual budget woes, she made a point of counting sexual positions—out loud—and disrupting his ability to make sense of numbers. When he went to upload a file on to the server, she casually asked if he would like to upload a few files into her when the sun went down. She asked him where he would like to upload—her mouth? Her hand? Her pussy? Or the tight ass he had yet to sample?

  When she told him how much she had been craving a good ass-fuck, he almost choked on his coffee.

  Amanda had never acted this way. The thought of being
anything but a lady had never crossed her mind. In the bedroom she had been willing and eager, but had left the adventurousness to him. The first time he had brought home a vibrator she had blushed and hidden under the covers. It had taken weeks to get her to use it, but even then she had never done it when he was around.

  The direction of his thoughts made matters worse. The thought of sex with his long-lost wife while Rebecca sat right next to him made him feel all kinds of guilty.

  When he was finished with the articles he started working on the layout, and that’s when Rebecca stopped teasing and got interested in something other than what was in his pants. She watched as the paper came together on the computer screen, marvelling at the puzzle of articles, pictures and advertisements that formed the Crispin Tribune. When she asked about where it printed, and how, he explained that a central server in Des Moines accepted the files and printed them throughout the night. Someone at the processing centre then pulled the papers from the racks, folded them, and had them ready for the delivery van by the wee hours of the morning. One of the three employees of Crispin’s paper picked them up, inserted local ads in the middle, put mailing labels on those that went through the postal service, and put the others in clear plastic bags for doorstep delivery. Every week, the same process was repeated, and by now Richard had it all down to an art, if not an exact science.

  She watched as he uploaded the files, thrilled to be learning more about what he did every week. The office had been in the same place since the first editor of the Crispin Tribune had started it, way back in 1938, and it was obvious that not much more than the computer system had changed. Ancient equipment filled up several of the back rooms and made the large building look smaller than it really was. Dust covered everything in the back storage area and made Rebecca sneeze. Richard laughed at her as he explained how the old printing press worked and showed her the drawers that still held their metal letters. Half-full bottles of old ink lined the shelves.

  “This is fascinating,” she said, staring at the bottles. Her eyes suddenly widened and she smiled at him with an air of discovery. “I’ll be right back.”