Stranded

by Noelle Stevens

  “Yeah. I love it out here. I’d live here full-time if I could manage it.”

  “I can see why.”

  “Now let’s build that snowman.” His face lights up and he looks like a small boy getting a break from school on a snow day.

  We work for an hour, and when we’re done, I feel quite proud that I’ve participated in building such a work of art.

  “It looks like crap,” Drake laughs as he stands back to appraise it.

  My mouth falls open. “Nuh-uh. It looks great.”

  With a patronizing smile, he says, “This is your first snowman, right?”

  I nod.

  “Then I’d have to say you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, I like it.” I turn my back on Drake and stare at the piles of snow that we’re calling a snowman, and wait for Drake to say something, but he’s quiet. As I start to turn to look at him, a cold ball of snow hits me in the side of the face. Gasping, my eyes widen, and then as the coldness seeps into my skin, I shriek.

  “Snowball fight!” Drake yells from ten feet away, then he beans me with another ball of snow.

  Hating that he’s caught me off-guard, and not liking the feel of the icy cold snow on my skin, I scoop up a handful of snow, pack it into a ball, then throw it at him as hard as I can. It sails right by him.

  “You throw like a girl,” he calls to me as he dashes behind a tree.

  “I’m so going to get you,” I call back, a wide grin on my face. Finding a tree of my own to hide behind, I kneel in the snow and form several snowballs, creating a small arsenal.

  Peeking out from behind the tree, I scan the tree-line, looking for the gorgeous man with the wicked aim. Movement catches my eye. I grin, then pick up two of my snowballs and carefully walk from tree to tree, trying to see where he’s hiding. A moment later I find him, but as soon as my eyes meet his, I know it’s a trap.

  I hurl my two snowballs at him—hitting him with both of them—but he has a large pile to draw from, and he begins throwing them at me the moment he’s recovered from my hits. Laughing, I scurry away, but he manages to connect with my back and legs. When I see a wide tree in my path, I move behind it, just as two snowballs smash against the trunk in a shower of snowflakes.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Half an hour later, after I’ve gotten in a few good hits, and he’s landed many more on me, I'm getting tired. He shows no signs of stopping, so I step out from behind the tree where I’ve taken refuge. “I give up,” I call out. “No more.”

  He pokes his head out from behind his tree. “Is this a trick?”

  I laugh. “No. You won.” I wave my empty hands. “See? No snowballs.”

  “Okay.” He walks out, a big smile on his face, and stops in front of me. “I think you need to practice your snowball throwing skills.”

  “What do you mean? I hit you a bunch of times.”

  “Maybe thirty percent of the time.”

  “Hey,” I say as I plant my hands on my hips. “I’m at a disadvantage here.”

  He cocks an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How so?”

  “You seem to have forgotten that this is my first snowball fight.” I narrow my eyes at him. “How many snowball fights have you been in?”

  He nods, like he knows I'm right. “A few.”

  “Okay. So you need to cut me some slack.”

  “Fine. But as part of your initiation into snow-like activities, I think you need to make your first snow angel.”

  My face lights up. “Oh yeah. I’ve always wanted to try that.”

  “Do you know how?”

  “Duh. Who doesn’t?”

  “Okay, go for it.”

  I look behind me and see that though the ground is somewhat trampled from our play, it’s still a good spot to lie down. I sit in the snow facing Drake, then lie back, straightening my legs, then stretching my arms above my head.

  When I look at Drake, I see his gaze sweep over me, and when his eyes meet mine, I see his undisguised desire. Matching desire pounds through me, and I hold very still, waiting for the feeling to pass, but it seems to go on and on.

  In a husky voice, he says, “Well? Are you going to do it?”

  My earlier enthusiasm vanishes as I try to control the sensations washing over me. As good as they feel, I wish they would stop. I’ve decided to focus on myself and what I need—to get my feet under me, now that I'm a college graduate. Why does my body have to betray me?

  Then, thinking that if I can’t see him, I can compose myself, I close my eyes, then swing my legs wide apart, then back together, wide apart, and back together. At the same time, I sweep my arms over my head in time to my legs. After going through the movements several times, I stop and open my eyes.

  Drake’s gaze is riveted to me, and even through his snow pants, his erection is evident. I focus on his eyes, but that doesn’t help as it seems he is able to see right into my soul.

  I push myself to a sitting position, then Drake reaches out a gloved hand, and I take it, allowing him to pull me up. Ignoring his obvious need, I turn my back on him and look at the snow angel I created. “That looks pretty good, don’t you think?” When he doesn’t reply, I turn to face him. “Well?”

  His lips twitch, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Yeah. You did good.”

  Trying to pretend that there’s no electricity flowing between us, I say, “Are there any other snow activities I should do?”

  He shakes his head. “No, but I do have a different activity in mind.”

  I feel my face redden as I think I know what he’s going to say, but he surprises me with his suggestion.

  “When I started chopping the firewood this morning, I turned on the jacuzzi. It feels good on the muscles, so I figured we might want to use it.”

  “You have a jacuzzi?”

  He nods.

  “Where is it?”

  “Out back. You can’t see it from the kitchen window.”

  “Oh.” Sitting in steaming hot water while it’s snowing sounds like heaven. There’s only one problem. “Uh, I don’t have a swimsuit.”

  A slow smile curves his mouth. “I’m sure you can think of something.” He gazes at me a moment, then says, “Let’s go.” Then he begins walking toward the house.

  I follow behind, frantically trying to figure out what to do.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Back in the house, Drake gestures toward the hallway. “You might want to leave the snow clothes in the laundry room. I’m going to change upstairs.” He smiles. “I’ll see you in the jacuzzi.”

  I nod as I watch him ascend the stairs, then I go into the laundry room and stand there, my mind and body warring with one another. On the one hand, I want to flee to my room and hide under the covers until he’s done with his jacuzzi time. On the other hand, I want to take off all of my clothes and sink into the heated water, and then let Drake have his way with me.

  Blood rushes to my face—and to other places—at the thought. Yes, he is hot, and yes, I know he wants me, but I have to prove to myself that I can control myself. How on earth am I going to make it on my own if I can’t be around a hot guy for two days without wanting to jump his bones? I know what the consequences of falling for a man is. My heart’s been broken enough times to attest to that.

  A smile slowly blossoms on my face as a new thought comes to mind. This will be a good test for me. If I can resist him while sitting in his jacuzzi, then I’ll know my self-control is intact. Then I frown. But if I can’t resist him, what will that say about me? I don’t like the implication.

  In any case, I need to take off the snow clothes. After taking off the hat, gloves, and coat, I remove the boots, then peel off the pants, and leave everything in a pile. Now in my jeans, I look out the window and see that the snow is drifting down in gentle flakes, which means the storm is probably coming to an end. Which means I will be leaving soon.

  I'm not sure how I feel about that. At first I
’d been eager to get back on the road and on to my new life, but now, not even twenty-four hours after sliding off the road, I'm really beginning to like this hot guy who rescued me. It’s obvious—more than obvious—that he’s attracted to me too, but is that reason enough to have sex with him? I’ve only been with a few guys in my life, and they were all guys I’d been dating for a while. I’ve never hopped into bed with a man until I’ve gotten to know him, and felt that we cared about each other.

  Not that I didn’t feel lust as much as the next girl, but long before I decided that I would be more discerning with whom I chose as my lovers, and I’ve always been able to keep that lust in check.

  Just because you climb into a jacuzzi with him doesn’t mean you have to have sex with him.

  I nod, my decision made. I’ll enjoy the hot tub, but not the hot guy. Holding back a smile at my little joke, I think about what I can wear—skinny dipping is not an option. My gaze sweeps the room, and stops on the t-shirt I left on the dryer that morning. Remembering how Drake caught me with my pants down makes my face flood with heat, but then I decide I can wear the t-shirt over my bra and panties in the jacuzzi.

  Feeling good about my decision, I take off my jeans and blouse, and pull the t-shirt over my head, and pretend I'm just wearing a bikini.

  Some bikinis show a lot more skin than my bra and panties.

  Feeling confident, I make my way into the kitchen. Drake is nowhere to be seen, so I assume he’s already in the jacuzzi. He said he’d meet me there, and I'm certain I’ve taken a lot longer to get ready than he did. Especially with all my internal arguments.

  I look out the kitchen window, but don’t see a jacuzzi out there.

  Well, dummy, he said you couldn’t see it from the kitchen window.

  Frowning, I reach for the back door, but hesitate.

  “This is your last chance to change your mind,” I mutter. Wiping my suddenly sweaty hands on the t-shirt, I take a quick breath, then twist the doorknob and open the door. A blast of cold air hits my bare legs and arms, and I shiver.

  “Over here, Ashley,” Drake calls from somewhere to the right.

  He knows you’re there. No backing out now.

  I step onto the covered patio and close the door, my gaze darting to the large jacuzzi nestled under a glass roof.

  “Get in before you freeze,” he says.

  I realize I'm shivering in the t-shirt/mini-dress, so I walk to the jacuzzi and climb in on the opposite side from Drake. The hot water envelopes me as I sink onto a bench seat. Closing my eyes, I moan with pleasure. “This feels so good.”

  “I know.”

  I open my eyes to see Drake watching me. Bubbles rise to the surface all around me, and a hot jet sprays against my back.

  “I’m glad you suggested playing in the snow,” he says. “I haven’t done that in a long time, but it was really fun.” He smiles. “Especially the snowball fight.”

  I smile in return. “You’re just saying that because you won.”

  He laughs. “Maybe you’ll win next time.”

  Next time? Would there be a next time? I could only hope.

  Drake looks up at the snow that falls gently on the glass roof. “I think the storm is almost done.”

  I look up as well, and feel a stab of disappointment. “Yeah.”

  “Once the storm stops, my Internet will be back up, and then we can call a tow truck to pull your car out of the snowbank.”

  My gaze shoots to him. “You have Internet?”

  He laughs. “Yeah. Through a satellite dish. But when the snow piles up on the dish, it blocks the signal.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t worry. Tomorrow we should be able to use my wi-fi to make a phone call.” His smile fades a bit. “To call your boyfriend.”

  I kind of regret that I’ve told him I have a boyfriend, but I'm not about to tell him the truth now. That would just make me look like an idiot. Plus, it’s kind of like an invisible layer of protection, giving me an excuse to rebuff his obvious interest in me. “Okay. Good.” Hmm. I hope that didn’t sound as lackluster to him as it did to me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I slide down so that the water comes to my chin, then close my eyes to try to forget that Drake’s naked chest and amazing biceps are within easy reach. Somehow closing my eyes makes it worse as images of his body blaze into my mind. Then the t-shirt I’m wearing floats upward and I have to keep pushing it down, which is really annoying.

  Evidently Drake notices what’s happening. Who am I kidding? He notices everything. “You could just take the t-shirt off, you know.”

  My eyes fly open, and I notice the deep dimple on his cheek as he smiles.

  “I promise to keep my hands to myself,” he adds.

  It would feel nice to not have the dumb t-shirt on in the hot water, I decide. Crossing my arms at my waist, I grab the bottom of the t-shirt and begin pulling it over my head. It’s heavy with water and difficult to drag off, but eventually I'm able to remove it.

  “Toss it here,” Drake says.

  I do as instructed and watch as he wrings it out, then tosses it neatly onto the back of a chair.

  “Impressive throw,” I say, then smile. “I guess that’s why you’re so good at snowball fights.”

  He cocks an eyebrow. “I’m good at lots of things.”

  A pulse of heat rips through me as I imagine what else he’s good at. Damn, how does he do that? Desperate to think of something else, I say, “What are we having for dinner?”

  He grins, clearly aware of what I'm doing. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “So . . . you’re making dinner, right?”

  “If you make breakfast tomorrow.” He shoots back.

  “Okay. I can do that.”

  “That was easy.”

  My eyebrows crease. “What was easy?”

  “Getting you to agree.”

  The look on his face makes me think he’s implying some sort of double meaning, but it could be my imagination. “I don’t mind,” I finally say.

  We soak in silence for a while, but then I start feeling a little too warm. Normally in that situation I would simply sit on the edge of the jacuzzi until I felt cooler, but in this case I'm wearing my bra and panties. Yes, it’s like I'm wearing a bikini. But still, I'm not. I lift my arms out of the water and hold them above it, which helps, but it doesn’t take long for my arms to tire.

  “Are you hot?” Drake asks, evidently noticing my odd positioning.

  “Kind of.”

  “Just get out for a bit. You’ll be ready to get back in in no time.”

  I stare at him a moment, knowing he must know my predicament, but obviously not caring. Or more likely, hoping I’ll get out and expose my underthings. Finally, after my arms are too heavy to hold up any longer, I decide I’ll show him that I'm perfectly comfortable sitting in the open air in front of a virtual stranger in just my bra and panties.

  Reaching behind me, I place my hands on the edge of the jacuzzi, then I tuck my feet under me on the bench and push myself up and out of the water. Focused on what I'm doing, it isn’t until I'm sitting on the edge with my feet dangling into the water that I look at Drake.

  His eyes are completely focused on my body, and it’s clear by his face that he likes what he sees. A powerful thrumming starts between my legs as I stare at him. After another moment, his heavy-lidded eyes meet mine.

  “That feels better now, doesn’t it?” he asks, his voice husky.

  I nod, unable to speak over the moan that is trying to escape my throat.

  “Good. I like my guests to be comfortable.”

  Wanting to drag my mind away from the waves of desire rolling through me, I grasp onto his comment like it’s a life preserver in the middle of the ocean. “So I’m your guest now?”

  He smiles. “Sure. Now that I’ve gotten to know you, I’d invite you to come for a stay.”

  Holy crap. Why does everything he says seem to have a double meaning? Unless I'm misin
terpreting what he meant. Maybe he’s just being a good host. “Good. So then you can make dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow.”

  “If you prefer, yeah, I can do that.”

  “Now look who’s easy.” Whoops! Did I just say that? Now looks who’s throwing out double entendres.

  “I’m not as easy as you might think,” he says with a lazy smile.

  I slide back into the water. “Neither am I.” I feel a need to make that clear at this point in our flirtation. Set the boundaries and all that.

  His smile grows. “No, I didn’t think so.”

  Well, that’s a relief. Maybe he’ll back off a little. Then, without warning, he climbs out of the jacuzzi and sits on the edge. Now it’s my turn to ogle. Water drips off of his chiseled chest, and his abs are as flat as I imagined. And those biceps. Woo! I want to feel those rock hard muscles for myself.

  All of a sudden I realize I'm staring, but as I lift my eyes to meet his, I know that he knows that I like what I see. To show him that he’s wrong, I turn my head and look off into the distance. “I’m getting kind of hungry,” I say.

  “I’ve been hungry all day,” he replies, and I wish I’d kept my mouth shut.

  Facing him, I concentrate on keeping my eyes above his neck, and pretend he is talking about food. “Maybe you should start dinner then?”

  “Are you hungry, Ashley?”

  “Um, kind of.”

  He swings his legs over the side of the jacuzzi, then wraps a towel around his waist. “Why don’t you come help me then?”

  Holy hell. Would you just stop? I want to scream, but at the same time I'm really enjoying our banter. “Do you have a towel I can use?”

  “Sure.” He picks up a large towel, then walks around to my side and holds it open for me.

  I climb out of the jacuzzi, acutely aware that not much fabric separates the two of us, and allow him to wrap the towel around my shoulders. “Thanks,” I murmur.

  “Uh huh.”

  Then he surprises me by taking my hand as he leads me inside. The warmth of the kitchen washes over me, and it almost feels too hot after being in the jacuzzi. Gently pulling my hand from his, I say, “I need to get dressed.”