by BJ Wane
“Neither one of us would survive if we greeted each morning like this. But, what the hell, let’s give it a try.” Laughing, Jack pulled away from her before he gave in to temptation and took her again. Releasing her legs, he pulled her from the bed. “Up you go. I need to be on time to take our guests to the slopes this morning. Get going.” Giving her a hard swat on the ass, he pushed her toward the bathroom.
Rubbing her abused cheek, she glared at him. “You go ahead. I want to work on my sketches this morning. I’ll see you when you get back.”
Smiling at the bright red hand print on her butt, he itched to add a matching one to her other cheek, but held back. “All right, but if you go out, stay around the lodge. It’s easy to get turned around out here and lose your way.”
“One trek through those trees in knee-deep snow was enough for me. I’m not going anywhere.”
* * *
Sitting in front of the windows with a cup of tea an hour later, the abrupt ringing of her cell phone interrupted her peaceful solitude. “Hello, mother,” she answered in resignation, bracing herself for another lecture.
“Morgan, I just found out you’re with Jack Sinclair, that roughneck boy who used to work for us,” Kathleen greeted her in a snide tone.
“He’s not nor has he ever been a roughneck, mother,” Morgan sighed. “He worked very hard for you and daddy and did a beautiful job keeping your property looking nice.” And an even better job befriending your lonely neglected little girl, she was tempted to say.
“I knew I should’ve put a stop to you hanging around him so much. Really, Morgan, you can’t seriously think of giving up a catch like Joel for a man like him. I won’t hear of it. Why, your father and I would never be able to live the scandal down. I insist you come home immediately. Your engagement party is still scheduled for next Saturday.”
“Dammit, mother,” Morgan burst out, letting her anger surface. “I told you before I left to cancel it, that the wedding is off. How can you want me to marry him after what he did?” She didn’t love Joel, but his betrayal still hurt.
“Don’t curse at me, young lady. And really, what did he do that was so awful? Women can’t really expect a man not to stray once in a while, dear, especially someone like you who doesn’t have many prospects to begin with. If you had taken after me and been blessed with a petite body or at least been passably attractive, you could be a little choosier. As it is, I’ve smoothed things over for you and Joel is willing to take you back. I’ll tell your father to expect you back at work this week,” she stated firmly, confident her wishes would be met.
Ignoring the seeds of doubt her mother planted, she firmed her voice. “Again, I’m not coming home right now, and when or if I do, it won’t be to pick up where I left off. There will be no wedding, at least not to Joel.”
“Don’t tell me that man has asked you to marry him!”
Her mother’s appalled voice would have made her laugh if Morgan wasn’t so upset over the disbelief in her tone. The truth was, Jack hadn’t said a word about her staying with him and she wondered if he expected her to leave after a few days, and wanted their relationship to return to friends only after the weather cleared enough for her to get home. The thought of returning home to her boring, unsatisfying job and lonely apartment was depressing and something she didn’t want to think about.
“No,” she sighed, “he hasn’t asked me to marry him, so you can quit panicking. I don’t know how long I’m going to stay here, but in the meantime, I suggest you cancel any and all wedding plans and tell Joel I meant it when I told him to go to hell. Goodbye, mother.”
As always, speaking with her mother left Morgan emotionally drained and insecure, and more so since they’d argued. She wished she knew how Jack felt about their new relationship. He seemed happy now to have her here, and she knew she pleased him sexually, but as far as anything permanent between them, that had never come up. One thing was for certain. Even if she didn’t stay here with Jack like she wanted to, she wouldn’t return to her old life. Somehow, she’d find a way to pursue her art and make a living at it, and it wouldn’t be in Chicago or anywhere near her parents. Looking out at the snow-covered landscape, right now somewhere down south sounded pretty good.
After heating up leftovers she found in the fridge for lunch, Morgan decided she needed some exercise and since there was so much snow, the only thing she could think of was building a snowman. After dressing in a pair of jeans and sweater, she tugged knee-high snow boots on over her pants, zipped up her heavy jacket, and pulled on mittens before trudging outside. With everyone either on the slopes or in town checking out the shops and restaurants, eerie quietness greeted her as she stepped out into the bright glare bouncing off the snow-covered ground.
Trying not to think about her mother’s phone call, Morgan had fun working on a snowman. Used to entertaining herself ever since she was a child, especially when Jack wasn’t around, she had no problem killing time until he returned. By the time he came driving up, she had completed a four-foot figure and beamed proudly at it as Jack got out of the Tahoe.
Jack grinned at the large mounds on the chest. “Let me guess,” he called out to her, “a snow woman, right?”
“Of course. Come on, Jack. Let’s build one together.”
Jack was tempted, especially since she looked awfully cute with her hood up and tied snugly under her chin, the fur trim framing her pink face. But he was cold and tired and needed a break before the get-together tonight, which would be the last one before this group checked out tomorrow. “Later, princess. I’m going to warm up.”
After he turned to head inside, she pissed him off with a well-aimed snowball smacking the back of his head. Shaking the snow out of his hair, he glared at her. “Morgan, stop it right…” Before he could finish, another snowball landed against his chest.
Laughing at his incredulous look, Morgan pleaded, “Come on, Jack. Just for a little bit. I haven’t had anyone to play with all afternoon.”
Jack couldn’t keep from succumbing to her cajoling and enthusiasm for the simple play. He couldn’t count how many times she had used that line on him growing up. Shoving aside his tiredness, he warned, “You’re going to be sorry.” Scooping up snow as he trudged toward her, he pelted her with snowballs faster than she could retaliate.
Squealing, Morgan tried to return some shots of her own, but it soon became obvious Jack had a lot more practice at snowball fights than she had. Her only recourse was to run, but she soon discovered he also had more practice running in deep snow. Within seconds, he had her tackled and hauled against him, their cold lips fusing together.
“It was very bad of you not to listen to me, princess. Plus, you lost,” Jack said against her mouth, their cold breath mingling.
Out of breath from laughing and running, Morgan panted, “You cheated.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know, I just know you did.”
“Mmm, seems to me you’ve used that line on me also over the years, usually when you lost at whatever we were playing.”
“And then you’d let me win.” She gave him her best hopeful little girl look.
“Not gonna happen this time. This time, you’ll suffer grownup consequences for defying me.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her over to a gazebo with benches built onto the sides.
Sputtering, Morgan asked, “What are you doing? Let’s go in, I’m cold.”
Jack undid her jeans with quick, deft fingers, shoved them down, and pulled her over his lap as he sat down. “One guess as to what I’m doing.”
“Damn it, Jack, it’s freezing out here!” she complained, all humor having fled when she realized his intentions. “Let me up! What if someone sees?”
Chuckling, Jack landed a hard swat on her ass. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a quick warm-up.”
She was cold and embarrassed, more so when she saw Marc pull up and he and two couples took their time unloading their skis while Jack peppere
d her wriggling ass with swift, hard slaps. But as usual, it took only moments for the pain encompassing her buttocks to turn her on. Cursing, she turned her head away from her grinning audience and quit struggling. True to his word, his ass did warm quickly under his hand until her cold buttocks burned, each smack a little harder, each response a little more needy. Her mortification knew no bounds as she pictured herself all bundled up against the cold with only her white buttocks naked and on display. Having her butt bare left her more vulnerable and exposed than if he had stripped her naked. At least then, she wouldn’t know what part of her body people were staring at. Imagining what her ass looked like added to her embarrassment, but the heat and pain from Jack’s unrelenting, hard hand aroused her nonetheless.
“Jack, please, please make me come,” she sobbed, ashamed of her desperation.
“Poor baby,” Jack crooned, running his hand over her warm, red cheeks. “You do feel a little warm here. But, since you’re being punished, it wouldn’t be prudent of me to reward you with an orgasm, now would it?” Even as he said that, he ran his fingers in a light caress over her dripping slit before entering her just far enough to feel the tight clasp of her slick walls.
“But,” she protested, twisting to glare up at him, “you enjoyed our snowball fight, and you won!”
“Still, I was tired and cold and didn’t want to play right then. But you ignored my warning to stop. Now that I’ve warmed you up, I think I’ll cool you off again.”
Remembering the ice on her nipples, Morgan cringed as she saw Jack reach behind him, just outside the gazebo, and scoop up snow. “No, Jack!” she cried out while trying to roll off his lap, but he was too fast and too strong for her.
Relishing his immense enjoyment at her expense, Jack grabbed her around the waist, held her down, and rubbed snow onto her red, squirming buttocks, her curses ringing in his ears. A few more hard swats on her snow-covered ass increased her struggles and complaints but several more and his threat to continue until she stopped had her lying in a docile heap over his lap. Taking pity on her shivering form, he let her up, pulled her jeans over her wet, sore ass, and grinned up into her scowling face. “All done, princess.”
“Don’t you ‘princess’ me, you big jerk. My ass is sore and freezing and you owe me an orgasm.” Turning, she stomped into the lodge, ignoring all of them.
“She’s got a temper,” Marc said as he walked with Jack back into the lodge. “And a nice ass.”
“Yes, she does.” Jack’s little tussle had invigorated him and made him hard. Then again, Morgan didn’t have to do much to get an erection out of him.
“Do you have plans for her tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ve got something in mind. Want to help?” When Marc hesitated, Jack asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I just don’t want to see you make the same mistake I did. If this is serious between you two, how far do you want the sharing to go?”
“Shit, sorry, Marc. I wasn’t thinking.” Jack had been there the night Marc had planned to share Cassie with him, and he had been there in the days following, supporting his friend through the anguish of knowing he had pushed her too hard too fast. Cassie had been too young and naïve to see Marc’s actions weren’t because he didn’t care, but because he cared so much he wanted to give her the ultimate pleasure of having two men. “Morgan’s not Cassie and we have a lengthy history behind us, as you’ve repeatedly mentioned. She knows how much I care, and that there’s nothing I won’t do for her. To answer your question, I intended to just torture her some more today with your help until I have her on the cross tonight. I figure between the two of us, we can have her so frustrated and ready for an orgasm, she won’t think twice about me taking her in public.”
“I think I can help you with that.” Smiling, they entered the lodge in search of their prey.
Chapter Seven
Thinking there had to be something perversely wrong with her to get turned on by such humiliating, uncomfortable treatment, Morgan stripped out of her damp clothes. The shock of cold snow on top of heated smacks numbed her buttocks and her mind until irritation broke through. Then to leave her hanging only added insult to injury. Their amusement at her expense had her cursing both men as she dried off, rubbing the towel up and down her chilled body with brisk, jerky movements. She was still swearing when Jack strolled into the bedroom. “I did not enjoy that, Jack,” she snapped, irritated to see a lack of remorse while she stood there freezing.
“Poor baby,” he crooned. “Here, let me help get you warm.”
Sidestepping his outstretched hand, she grumbled, “I don’t need your help.”
“Morgan.”
Damn it. Why did that warning tone have to replace the lingering chill in her body with heated awareness? Yes, it was definite there was something wrong with her. “My butt hurts.”
Her petulant reply made Jack smile. Snatching the towel from her, he rubbed the nubby cloth over her breasts, adding pressure in a circular motion over her nipples before moving down her waist. Kneeling, he draped the towel over his palm and ran it up between her legs, his grin widening when she parted them without instruction.
Bracing her hands on his big shoulders as he rubbed between her legs, she was unable to stifle a moan when his ministrations added to her frustrating, unfulfilled desire. She warmed inside and out, his hot breath on her thigh adding to her arousal in a way she didn’t need. In an unconscious gesture, she thrust her pelvis forward, a silent plea for more she had no control over.
Chuckling, Jack rose, drew his arms around her as he switched the towel to her ass, and rubbed her buttocks as his mouth took hers in a demanding, wet kiss. When she melted against him, her pelvis grinding against the rigid length of his cock, he pulled away, draped the towel over her shoulders, and quipped, “There. I think you’re all warmed up now. Slip on my shirt and come help me with dinner.” The damp towel hit him in the back as he made a speedy exit, her curses following him out of the room.
Morgan was tempted to lock herself in the bathroom and relieve her frustration herself, but the mention of food reminded her of her other unfulfilled hunger. She obeyed Jack by slipping his shirt on, but added a dry pair of jeans under it, knowing it would piss him off.
“What’re we having?” she asked, strolling into the kitchen barefoot.
Jack looked up from chopping potatoes and tossing them into a large pot. He frowned, noticing her jeans, then laid his knife down and moved toward her with slow, measured steps.
Morgan backed away from him, not trusting the gleam in his eyes. Backing into a hard body put an abrupt halt to her retreat and Marc’s arms circling her from behind made sure she stayed in place.
“Now what has she done?” Marc asked before he ran his lips up the side of her neck.
“She put on jeans when I specifically told her to put on my shirt.” Jack stopped in front of her, smiling at her look of defiance. Something had happened while he was out earlier to make Morgan act out, and if he were to guess, he bet she’d received another call from one of her parents. She was always at her brattiest or her quietest after a confrontation with her mother or father. “Take off the jeans, Morgan,” he ordered, his soft, warning tone giving her no quarter.
“I’m still cold and I only have to bow down to your will when it comes to sex, and since we’re not having sex, I’ll wear what I want.” But hopefully we’ll have sex soon, she thought, Marc’s lean hard body bracing her adding fuel to a fire already blazing hot.
“I think she needs some help, Jack.” Marc kept his left arm tight around her waist as he unsnapped her jeans.
Morgan’s breath hitched with excitement as Jack shoved them down, but she refused to make it easy for them. Kicking out, she fought to keep Jack from pulling them completely off. Her struggles caused her shirt to bunch up, revealing the bare lips of her shaved pussy. Marc used his free hand to cup between her legs, his palm covering her mound, holding her in a tight clasp. Biting her lip in frustration, Morgan held back
a moan as Jack stripped the jeans from her.
“Marc, my sub needs to be punished for disobeying me, but I think her ass is too sore for another spanking right now,” Jack said.
“Well, there’s only one other thing to do then,” Marc agreed, right before his hand pulled away from her pussy to slap against her sensitive folds with a jarring smack.
The startling pain elicited a cry from her, his hand landing in a barrage of steady slaps again and again. The short, rapid succession of stinging swats heated her tender folds, her whimpers going unheeded as Jack watched Marc mete out her punishment. Within moments, her perverse acceptance of their treatment had her enjoying the warm throbbing between her legs. With her juices creaming her thighs, she couldn’t keep from thrusting against his descending palm, meeting and welcoming each painful slap.
Biting her lip, she locked her eyes on Jack’s, imploring, “Please, master, please.”
“Stop.”
Marc stopped, his hand damp from her juices. Looking down into Morgan’s red face, he saw what Jack had seen. Morgan was on the verge of climax and a few more well-aimed slaps would have sent her flying. “Poor darling.” Rubbing his fingers over the soft flesh he had just tormented, he continued to stimulate her to the edge of orgasm before backing off.
Tears filled her eyes as Marc caressed her sensitive folds then dipped between them to stroke over her inflamed clit, only to retreat before she could come. All the while, Jack stood in front of her, arms crossed, watching out of those dark, enigmatic eyes. “Damn it, you two, quit teasing me. I can’t take it anymore,” she cried out when Marc once again teased her clit just to deny her the relief she was in desperate need of.
Jack kissed her on the nose and nodded at Marc. “Come help me get this stew going, or we’ll never eat.”
Marc released her and joined Jack at the counter where the two of them resumed cutting vegetables as if nothing happened. And, damn it, nothing had happened as far as she was concerned. She knew Jack well enough to know he didn’t do anything without an ulterior motive; she just had to figure out what that motive was, because right now she didn’t have a clue. Striving for nonchalance as if she hadn’t been begging only moments before, Morgan joined them in preparing the beef stew. Within minutes, the three of them were laughing as Marc and Jack told her about some of the spills and antics the guests had pulled that afternoon.