Snowflake

by Cecelia Rose

  “I think she wants to get inside,” I tease, noticing just how cold the air is without being wrapped up in his arms. He sighs, bending down to scratch Lola behind the ear.

  “Fine, let’s get you two into the warmth then,” he says, standing back up. He grabs my hand back in his, and leads me back in the direction of the house. As we make our way through the snow, the island is completely peaceful. Not a soul in sight. Lola trails behind us, keeping close. I can’t help but let myself just melt into the moment, wishing it could last forever.

  I try to ignore the dread that fills me at the idea of going home in a few days. Back to my normal life. Back to listening to my mother’s constant reminders of what a disappointment I am. I can’t even begin to think on how she would react if I decide to turn this job offer down. Maybe I should find an island somewhere to hide on. I smirk at the thought.

  The house comes into view ahead of us, and I try to stifle the longing feeling I have seeing it, because it may feel like a home, but isn’t mine.

  Chapter 8

  “Are you two actually making cookies?” I ask, stepping into the kitchen. I spot Blake and Spencer standing by the counter with all the ingredients laid out across the top. The smell of burning chocolate thick in the air.

  “We ate all of Noah’s cookies earlier after he told us not to, so we’re going to make more before he realises,” Blake explains.

  “Won’t he notice you making them?” I ask, looking around trying to work out where in this large house he’s hiding away. I hadn’t seen him since our walk this morning, and it’s nearly seven in the evening now. Although, I can’t say much myself. I’ve spent the last few hours in one of the sitting rooms lost in a book. I’d found it sitting neglected on a shelf in the room I’m staying in.

  “He’s out,” Spencer replies.

  “Where? There’s nowhere to go on this island at the moment,” I comment.

  “He’s got somewhere to be this evening, is all,” Blake answers cryptically. I sigh, letting it go. It’s not my business where he has run off to.

  “How is the cookie making going?” I ask, wandering over closer to them.

  “This is our third attempt at making them,” Spencer admits, frowning at the cookies that have been discarded into the bin beside him.

  “Those are some ugly looking cookies,” I remark.

  “They taste even worse,” Blake mutters, before groaning as he runs a hand through his hair.

  “Want some help? Or I could just take a seat and laugh at your efforts, I suppose?” I tease.

  “Aides-vous, s'il te plait?” Blake pleads, the French just rolling from his tongue.

  I wonder what else he can say in French?

  “Fine, but in return, you can tell me how much French you speak, and how you learned.” I smile as he only considers for a second or two.

  “Sure thing,” he agrees.

  I look around and spot the instructions they are following on the side, and after a cursory glance at them, I set to work.

  “Get explaining,” I say to Blake, as I reach for the flour to sift.

  “Not really much to explain, but I’m pretty much fluent. I learnt a little in school, and then I spent nearly a year and a half living in Paris with a friend before I went to Uni,” he answers.

  “‘Friend’ is standing right here,” Spencer announces, drawing my attention towards him. His blue eyes are focused on me, watching my every move intently. I feel like prey being stalked. I try to ignore the feeling, and continue prepping the cookies. Sifting the salt and bicarb into the mix. I need to do a better job at platonic, but every time I look at one of these guys all thoughts of platonic friendships just fly right out the window.

  “So, you speak French too?” I ask.

  “I do, admittedly not as well. I think Blake only paid such an interest in getting as fluent as he did as a way to impress women,” Spencer answers in a playful tone.

  “Did it work?” I inquire, actually a tiny bit curious despite my promises of platonic interactions only from now on with the guys.

  “It certainly worked a lot better when he actually learnt how to speak it.” He looks at his friend and laughs reminiscently. “Back when he was first getting to grips with it, I think he once told a woman that her ass was chicken or something,” Spencer explains jokingly as he turns back to me.

  “You can’t be serious,” I question, looking between the two of them. Seeing the humour on Spencer’s face and the mortified look on Blake’s, I know it has to be true. I can’t stop the laughter that slips out.

  “You tell a woman her ass is a chicken once, just once, and you never live it down,” Blake exclaims, groaning in misery again.

  “How did you even manage that?” I ask, pausing just for a moment and then add, “Wait, I think I’d rather not hear that story.” I grab for the butter, caster sugar, and brown sugar, adding them into the mix.

  “It’s a long, boring story anyway,” Blake says, the tinge in his cheeks suggesting differently, but I decide to leave it.

  “Why is there a bowl of melted chocolate?” I ask, noticing it sitting by the microwave.

  “For the cookies?” Blake suggests. I push the instructions across the counter to him.

  “Where does it tell you to melt chocolate?” I ask. His eyes scan it, and he frowns.

  “It doesn’t,” he replies.

  “Exactly, now where are the chocolate chips? . . . you know, for the chocolate chip cookies?” I ask, following his eyes as they look down into the bowl of melted chocolate. I can’t stop the laugh that sneaks out at the expression of utter dismay on his face.

  “Well, shit,” Spencer mutters. “I told you not to do it,” he adds to Blake, giving him an ‘I told you so’ kind of look.

  “Like hell you did! You’re the one who put them in bowl!” Blake accuses him back.

  “Well, it would be a shame to put all this chocolate to waste,” I hear Spencer say, just before I feel his hand slide across my neck. I quickly turn around, spotting the chocolate dripping off his finger.

  Did he just swipe chocolate on my neck?

  I reach a hand up and gently tap it on the side of my neck where his fingers just trailed, pulling my hand back away I look at the melted chocolate on my fingers. He did.

  Blake takes my hand in his, drawing them to his lips, then he slowly licks the chocolate off. I feel Spencer sliding up behind me. He slides a hand into my hair and tilts it to the side.

  Platonic friendship. Platonic friendship. Damn it!

  I chant the words over to myself, as I try to convince myself that this needs to stop, but I can feel the need already starting to burn in me. Spencer presses his lips to my neck, kissing it gently, before licking the chocolate off.

  Maybe we can start the platonic friendship thing tomorrow, instead?

  Blake pulls his shirt off, and I gaze over his toned physique, my hands automatically seeking his body out as I slide my hands across the hard planes of his chest. He dips a finger in the bowl of chocolate on the side, and runs it across my bottom lip, before leaning down and sucking it off. He kisses me deeply, and I slide my hands around his neck, tugging him closer to me, needing him so much closer than he currently is. I feel Spencer’s hands roaming my body from behind.

  Fuck. Feeling two sets of hands roaming across my body. Two sets of lips running kisses across my skin. Two very hard men pressed against me from either side. It's just so much more feeling all at once, a new level of intensity. I place my hands on Blake's chest and push him back, grabbing the bowl of melted chocolate from the side.

  “What are you doing, Tamara?” he asks me, glancing pointedly between my face and the bowl.

  “You didn't think I'd let you have all the fun, right?” I reply mischievously. I tip the bowl against his chest, letting a little chocolate drip down his front, pouring just enough so it runs from the centre of his chest to the top of his jeans.

  Spencer takes the bowl from me, placing it back on the side. Not wantin
g Spencer to miss out on the fun, I dip my finger into the chocolate and run it across my own bottom lip. Sliding up close, I lean up and kiss him, digging my nails into his back as I tug him against me, feeling every inch of his body respond to my touch. He breathes heavily as I drag my nails down his back slowly, tantalisingly. He grabs me by my shoulders and twists me around to face Blake, who is now leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

  “Not just gonna leave him hanging, Tamara?” he asks, whispering in my ear, before nipping my neck. Instead of answering, I step forward, closing the distance between me and Blake. I reach for him, unbuttoning his jeans and tugging down the zip, before slowly tugging them down his legs.

  “Enjoying taking your time there?” he practically growls.

  “I'm gonna take all the time I want with you,” I reply, the words just coming out without a filter, the huskiness in my own tone surprises me. I place a light kiss against his lips, before slowing working my way down and licking the chocolate off. Starting at the top of his chest, and very slowly working my way down, hearing his breathing get deeper the lower I go.

  As I get lower, I run my hands teasingly over him through his boxers, just enough pressure in my touch to feel it, but not enough to get him anywhere. Finally, I reach the bottom of the chocolate trail. Sliding down onto my knees, I pull down his boxers, freeing his cock from them. I feel hands slide into my hair, I look up at Blake, but his hands are at his sides. Spencer's hands are the ones holding my hair back.

  He's just gonna hold my hair back while I suck his best friend's cock? These guys sure are some close friends. I can't help but notice just how comfortable they seem with this, how natural it is for them, making a mental note to try and find out just how close the two are later.

  “Mind helping me out with some more chocolate, Spencer?” I ask.

  He releases one of his hands from my hair. I expect him to just tip some of the chocolate over Blake or even just hand the bowl to me, but he does neither. He places his hand in the bowl of chocolate, and when it's covered, he runs his hand over Blake's cock, working it up and down a few times. The sight of him getting his friend off, turns me on more than I ever thought it would. He grabs it at the base, and using the other hand, lures my head closer. Leaning forward, I slowly lick up from the base of Blake's cock to the tip, before swirling my tongue around the head, and reversing the movement, trailing back down.

  Spencer moves his hand away, and I look up as I slowly slide Blake into my mouth. His light grey eyes are looking down at me, the intensity burning right through me as I slowly take him in and out. He snakes his hands into my hair as Spencer releases his own hold. After a few seconds, I hear the sound of Spencer's jeans hit the floor and out of the corner of my eye I spot his shirt hit the ground also.

  Blake's hands tighten in my hair as he pushes me down more on his cock, I graze my teeth against him gently in warning, then he groans as I take him fully, before pulling back and slowly standing. I kiss him ferociously, demanding all of his attention as I twist my fingers in his short, dark hair.

  I pull away only so Spencer can pull my t-shirt off from behind, my bra quickly following. I feel Blake's hands–or are they Spencer’s?–tugging my leggings down, brining my purple, lacy underwear with them, so I’m left standing naked between the two men.

  Blake turns me around, so I’m facing Spencer, and my lips find his instantly. I feel two sets of hands roam all over my body, squeezing, caressing every inch of me. A hand slips between my parted thighs, his fingers easily sliding into me. He pushes two of his fingers in and out slowly, whilst using his thumb to rub up against my clit. I can't stop the soft moans escaping me between intense kisses.

  The two move as one as they bring me down onto the kitchen floor. Back on my knees, Spencer kneeling in front of me, I lean down and take his cock into my mouth, as I feel Blake pressing his at my entrance from behind. Letting out a sigh as I feel Blake slide right into me. I feel hands cupping my breasts, and have no idea which of the guys the hands belong to as they tweak my nipples.

  Blake pulls away and then pushes right back into me. He repeats the movement, harder and faster this time, and continues to pump in and out of me from behind. Moaning from the sensations as I suck and run my tongue over Spencer's cock, I can feel my own release begin to build. When I feel nails digging harshly into my sides, and another hand pulling on my hair, I can't help but get even more turned on from the rougher treatment. I push back against Blake, wanting him to go harder. I hear him groan from behind me, as he reaches his release inside of me.

  He runs his hands over my ass before pulling out, I feel the cold air on my back where his body was just seconds ago. Hands wrap around my waist and pull me back, Spencer's cock slipping from my lips.

  Blake is holding my body, my back against his front on the cold kitchen floor. Spencer crawls on top of us, pressing his lips to mine as he slides into me. I feel every inch of him as he slowly pushes in, I drag my nails down his back as my tongue twists with his own. Blake reaches a hand around, rubbing my clit with two of his fingers from behind as Spencer moves in and out of me.

  The pleasure building in me is so fucking intense, I cry out, pulling my lips away from Spencer's, so I can look into his blue eyes as I come apart beneath him. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my neck.

  “Tamara,” he whispers so fucking softly into my ear, I swear I could have imagined it. He reaches his own climax, and I feel his body go relaxed against mine.

  We're all left breathing deeply, lying naked on the kitchen floor, our bodies glistening with a light sweat despite the chill. I hear footsteps and look over Spencer's shoulder. Standing in the kitchen doorway is Noah, and he doesn't look very impressed at the sight of the three of us lying here.

  “What's wrong?” Spencer asks, noticing the mortified look on my face. I just look between his face, and Noah standing behind him. He slowly turns his head to his friend.

  “Hey, Noah. You're back a little early,” he says calmly. Noah doesn't even respond before turning and leaving the room. A few seconds later, I hear a door slam. Fuck.

  As Spencer stands, I scramble up, grabbing my shirt and leggings and quickly pulling them on. I look at the matching looks on Spencer and Blake's faces, a mixture of confusion and hurt as I quickly leave the kitchen, rushing up to the guest room I’m staying in. I slam their own door behind me to cut them off and make it clear that I don’t want to be followed.

  Breathing deeply, I fall onto the bed.

  Platonic friendship. Platonic! Was it really so hard? How did I manage to screw it up so badly, so quickly?

  I groan and cover my face with a pillow, letting myself slip into full on self-loathing mode. I just have to fail remarkably at everything. I can't even manage to keep my clothes on around some attractive guys. I picture Blake and Spencer in my head. Attractive isn't enough of a word to describe them, gorgeous fucking sex gods may be more appropriate. Why does something so bad, feel so damn good to do?

  Seeing nothing but the stormy look that was on Noah's face as he left without a word, I eventually fall into a light, restless sleep.

  Chapter 9

  I stir awake as I feel two bodies fall into the bed next to me. Slowly, I manage to will my eyes open. Blake is facing me, so I guess it must be Spencer on the other side.

  “What are you doing in here?” I grumble, my voice scratchy from just waking up.

  “We came to see if you were okay. You disappeared on us so quickly earlier,” Blake says gently, brushing some of my messy hair from my face. He kisses my forehead as he wraps his arms around me.

  Fuck, I hope I don't have morning breath–evening breath–night breath? Who knows what the time is thanks to the thick curtains blocking any possible light from the window.

  “I'm fine,” I mumble, breathing in the fresh, clean, citrus scent coming from Blake. I reach a hand up and lightly touch his hair, which feels a little damp, confirming that he's just got out from a shower. Speaking of, I co
uld probably use one. I try to pull away and stand up, but his arms tighten around me.

  “Don't just ‘I'm fine’ me and run off,” he says. I feel another set of arms wrap around me from the other side.

  “Talk to us, awake Tamara,” Spencer presses me, the teasing quality of his voice hitting his little nickname for me.

  “I just don't want to make my stay here awkward, for myself or for you guys. Clearly what we did made Noah feel awkward and I just want to avoid that,” I explain.

  “Trust me, we've spoken to Noah, and he's fine. You should go speak with him in a bit,” Blake replies.

  “He didn't look fine,” I reply, not believing for a second that he was okay with this after seeing his reaction for myself.

  “He was just a little surprised, Tamara. He felt bad for just walking in on us like that,” Spencer explains.

  “Yeah right,” I mutter. “Please can you let me get up, guys, I really want to shower,” I complain, wriggling between them.

  “Sure thing, but you can give me a kiss first,” Blake says teasingly. I groan and look up at him, leaning in to close the distance. “I was only kidding, you don't have to,” he offers, running a hand soothingly across my back.

  I look into his eyes and figure why not, a kiss at this point isn't going to hurt things anymore than they already are, and his lips look so damn inviting. I press my lips up against his, kissing him deeply, before wriggling myself around to face Spencer, and giving him a kiss too, letting my hands slide into his soft, blond hair.

  I pull away, and this time the guys let me up. Crawling off the bed, I grab my fluffy towel and head into the bathroom, closing the cream-coloured door gently behind me. I turn the water on, making sure the water is extra hot how I like it.

  Stepping into the shower, I tilt my head up, feeling the hot water splash against my face and neck, before sliding down the rest of my body. I grab my shampoo, washing my hair first, before reaching down for my body wash, and slowly washing every inch of my body. I feel kind of sad as I wash the scent of the guys right off me, replacing their smell with the scent of strawberries.