She had conditions? Anything, he'd agree to anything—as long she didn't leave his sight. His gaze dropped to the stiff points poking the fabric of the uglier-than-sin shirt she wore. God, but she was something else!
"Condition?"
When she nodded, and then shrugged, the fabric fell back on her shoulders, exposing a creamy expanse of soft-looking skin to his view. He hardly heard her words, the hammering of his own blood in his head was so loud.
"Your name? I'd like to know who it is I'm stranded with in the middle of a blizzard. Do you remember your name?"
At least it was a question he could answer. Yes, he knew his name. He was surprised—pleasantly so—that she didn't know it.
"That's easy. My name is Jason. Jason Sinclair."
* * * *
So that's why you look so familiar! Jason Sinclair! You're one of the guys who invented that space-age gook astronauts eat! I've seen your picture on CNN and—oh! You were voted Time magazine's “Most Eligible Bachelor” last year! You're that Jason Sinclair, and I'm stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with you. Holy shit! I guess dreams really do come true. At least until we're rescued.
Chapter 2
Falling from the sky, being dragged through a snowstorm and lying on his back for two days without food had taken its toll on Jason. When he tried to stand up for the first time, blankets clutched modestly over his nakedness, he turned vanilla-milkshake white and swayed dangerously. The blankets dropped around his feet in a tangled heap.
Cheyenne rushed to grab him before he hit the floor. She had seen him in all his glory already. There was no embarrassment as she held his body against hers. Pushing him down on the edge of the bunk, she shoved his head between his knees.
"Don't even think of falling down again, Jason. You're a heavy guy and it's not easy to get you up when you go down.” It was only after the words left her mouth that she realized what she had just said. Jason snickered beside her.
"So you've already got me figured out, have you? Not so easy to get me up as you would hope?” He shook his head before he raised his eyes. They found hers and she saw his deep brown eyes dance as he chose his next words.
Chose them carefully.
"Might be ridiculous of me to even try to change your mind about that just now. I'll concede that point. But who knows? Maybe in a while things will change."
"Let's get you to your feet before you go making promises you can't keep. Are you ready to try again?"
He nodded. “I am. But I seem to have lost my blankets. I, uh, don't want to be offensive, Cheyenne. I didn't purposefully drop them. Maybe if you just give me some pants I'll be able to get up and dressed by myself. I think—"
It wasn't easy to keep her gaze from falling to the juncture of his muscular thighs. Somehow she found the strength to sit beside him, place an arm around his shoulders and give him a squeeze. Jason's body rested against hers for an all-too-brief moment.
"Hey, I know you didn't expose yourself to me on purpose. Don't forget I've been here with you all this time, waiting for you to wake up. I know how you must feel after being unconscious for so long. So let's forget about the false modesty and concentrate on getting you to do all you feel well enough to do. And if you need some help ... well, that's what I'm here for."
He turned to look at her and she saw resolve in his deep, chocolate brown eyes. Determination and something else, too. Something that made Cheyenne's heart flutter, her center heat. She saw mirrored in Jason's eyes the feelings beginning to simmer inside her.
Jason's warmth infused her as she leaned closer to him. Her voice hitched as she said, “Do we have a deal? No false modesty? Just—” Cheyenne swallowed. It had been a while since she'd put any new wood on the fire but it suddenly felt doubly hot in the small space. “Just two people making the best of their situation. Deal?"
"Deal.” His voice was husky. Shaking his head as if to clear it, Jason plowed a hand through his thick black hair. “I think I can stand now. If you'll grab those pants from the chair I'm sure I'll be able to get them on. Then maybe we can find something to eat? I've got to admit I'm suddenly pretty hungry."
Cheyenne grabbed the jeans she'd found in a cupboard and handed them to him, getting a glimpse of his semi-erection.
He was a man who, under different circumstances, she would have put on the charm to impress. But under the current conditions, Cheyenne was more than satisfied just to have another human being inside the tiny cabin with her.
With or without an erection, Jason Sinclair was a welcome sight.
* * * *
A little help was all he needed to get dressed, washed up in the tiny but functional bathroom and settled before the fire with a bowl of soup. Cheyenne said there were enough cans of soup, in a case stored beneath the sink, to feed them for a few weeks. He hoped they'd figure out what to do long before the soup ran out.
He set his empty bowl on the floor beside the lumpy sofa. “I guess I was kind of hungry."
She swallowed before answering. She was sitting cross-legged on the small braided rug in front of the fire, her half-empty bowl cradled in her hand.
"You must have been famished. You haven't eaten in days. Do you want another bowl? I can make you some more.” Cheyenne lowered her bowl to the floor but he stopped her before she could stand.
"No. I'm fine, thanks. I've had enough. When you're done with your soup, and if you feel up to talking about it, I'd like to know just what happened.” It seemed impossible that she had gotten them both into the shelter of the cabin.
"I've had enough.” Cheyenne pushed the bowl across the floor, pulled her legs against her body and wrapped her arms around her knees. Staring into the flames, she spoke quietly. About the horrible screeching sound the plane's belly made sliding over the snow. The shuddering as tall, thick trees were made mulch by the propellers and wings. Then, the details that seemed more difficult for her to share. Checking for pulses on the other nine passengers. Finding none. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she spoke of the crushed, mangled body of the pilot. His co-pilot who had been thrown so far she had spent two hours looking for him.
He didn't say a word, didn't ask any questions. It seemed kinder to simply let her talk until there was nothing else to be said.
When it was all out, and he understood the horror of what they had lived through, he slid off the sofa and onto the floor. Jason pulled her trembling body against his, vowing in that instant he would get them out of here. Somehow, he would do it.
Chapter 3
"So what were you doing? Going to Hawaii for Christmas all alone? Did you plan to meet someone there?"
It seemed senseless to try and hide anything. They had shared too much to begin to dance around the facts of their lives—facts that hardly seemed to matter now. Lying on the floor beside Jason, staring at the embers of the low-burning fire, Cheyenne shook her head.
"No, I wasn't meeting anyone. Actually, I guess you could say I was running from someone.” And myself. The crash cured her of that habit, though. There would be no more running and hiding for her—ever. Cheyenne had made some decisions while she waited for Jason to wake, and that was one on a long list.
Her face was luminous in the glow from the fireplace and Jason felt his body respond as he wondered who had frightened her enough that she'd flee at the happiest time of the year.
"Husband?” There was no telltale white line but he was savvy enough to know that self-tanners could eliminate practically any hint of a ring.
"No, nothing as permanent as that.” Cheyenne's voice dropped to a near whisper.
"Boyfriend, then?"
"Just someone I thought I was in love with once. Not the right man for me, though."
Her sigh was like a whisper, sending a shudder through him. When she pushed up onto one elbow her shirt pulled open below the neckline, affording Jason a clear view of creamy white skin, the gentle slope of a breast, the edge of a rosy nipple. She didn't notice she was on display and he wasn't goin
g to tell her. It was too pleasurable by far to let his gaze linger on her beauty. Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet hers.
Cheyenne lay so close he could smell the toothpaste she'd used, count the flecks in her wide, clear eyes, and hear her measured breathing. And he could still see, in his mind's eye, the firm breast that teased him from beneath the plaid shirt.
"Well, I can't say I'm not relieved to hear it, that he wasn't the right guy for you. So are you two finished? For good, I mean? No chance of him trying to follow you to Hawaii?"
The answers were important to him, more important than he expected them to be. He waited for her response, hardly daring to breathe.
When it came, relief mixed with other, more primal urges. The intensity of his response shocked him.
"No. No chance. Frank has already gotten engaged to his secretary.” She shook her head, snorting derisively. Smacking a palm against her thigh, she said, “So damn predictable, isn't it? Ad exec mixes it up with secretary? Makes me want to puke."
Her head snapped angrily a second time, her silky curls bouncing against her shoulders. A lock found its way inside the neckline of her shirt and curled seductively across the skin that had him mesmerized. The shirt opened a touch further as she spoke, enough for Jason to fully see one of the round nipples he had been daydreaming about.
Desire slammed into him. Shifting to accommodate his swelling cock, Jason raised his gaze to Cheyenne's face and saw she realized he watched her, and she affected him. Smiling slowly, he shrugged.
"It's a relief, isn't it? Just to be able to do normal things, like talk and—well, like feel desire. When I think of how close we came to being—"
Jason reached out, pulling her against him and holding her as she cried. Her tears were comforting, the small sniffling sounds so undeniably human in the silence of their isolation. He held her until she quieted. Then he scooped her up and deposited her on the bed.
"Hey, you shouldn't be carrying me. You were in a plane wreck, remember?” She wiped a palm across her cheek, feeling as if some of the pressure she'd held in check had been relieved. Her head no longer felt filled with unspoken thoughts.
Jason turned, put another log on the fire and then banked it down for the night.
"I feel pretty good, despite the bumps and bruises. I think it's time you had a chance to rest. You've been taking care of me for days. Now it's your turn."
He sat in the armchair and pulled the thin blanket across his body. It didn't cover much of him, and he looked completely ridiculous with his legs and shoulders poking out into the chilly air. Cheyenne stifled a laugh and moved toward the wall. She made room for him in the small bunk and motioned for him to join her.
"You sure?"
"I am. It's really uncomfortable in that little chair. It's silly for us to stand on convention when we're stuck here in the middle of nowhere for who knows how long. Besides, it'll be warmer if we sleep together."
He needed no more convincing. Dropping the flimsy blanket onto the lumpy chair, he crossed the space separating them, lifted the quilt and slid into bed beside Cheyenne. The bunk was tiny. There was no way for their bodies not to touch and they shifted around until they were situated. Cheyenne faced the wall and he molded himself into her warmth. He reached around and put his arm protectively around her waist and was silently thrilled when she covered his hand with her own.
"Don't worry, Jason. Your virtue is safe with me.” Her tone was playful, giving him a glimpse of the fun they might have had together had circumstances been different.
He shifted slightly, moving his hips away from her ass. The throbbing presence between them couldn't be hidden but Jason had no desire to offend her.
"But is yours safe with me?"
A soft snore was his only answer.
Placing his lips against her temple, he inhaled the sweet scent of the woman in his arms. His heart lurched in his chest as he contemplated their options for survival. Unless someone found them, and he doubted that was likely given the near-blizzard conditions outside, they might never see civilization again. That is, unless the snow let up enough for them to hike out of here. More than anything he'd ever wanted, that was what he wished for now—a chance to find a way to survive this ordeal and maybe, if his luck held out, find a life with the amazing woman he held beside him. At this moment, nothing else mattered.
Chapter 4
The snow came harder and faster by morning. When they awoke they could see the drifts had gathered against the windows in the night. Solid as small mountains, they looked deep enough to bury anyone foolhardy enough to attempt walking through them.
Any plans for escape were laid aside in the glaring light of day.
Jason found a dog-eared deck of pinochle cards in a drawer. Endless games helped pass the time. Still, the hours crept by at a pace that made drying cement seem like a speedy process.
When dusk finally fell they were thankful. Conversation topics dwindled as the snow piled up, and they ate bowls of chicken noodle soup in silence on the braided rug in front of the fire. Neither of them had given voice to the niggling thought that couldn't be denied.
As she set her empty bowl on the rug, Cheyenne said the words they had both been thinking.
"What if it doesn't stop snowing?"
Jason finished his soup before answering.
"It has to stop snowing. Eventually. It can't just go on snowing forever."
"But what if it does?"
He shrugged, slipping his bowl inside her empty one. The spoons clanked together as he weighed his approach. Nonchalance? That wouldn't add to the tension he heard mounting in her voice, would it?
"It can't."
"But—"
He recognized her fear, but knew that he couldn't let it consume her. If she panicked it would be hard, if not impossible, for her to regain control. That was something he knew well from his many stints on national television and radio programs. He'd seen a number of intelligent, seemingly confident new celebrities lose their grip at crunch time. Once lost, it was difficult to restore. This was crunch time, and Jason knew he had to pull Cheyenne back to more positive ground. Quickly.
I've got to put an end to this line of talking. In half a second she's going to be screeching. Hell, it's not as if she's not asking the same questions I've been asking myself all day. The food may not hold out as long as the snow does. What then? Will we become like some crazy cannibals, going in search of the plane wreck for our next meal? I'll bet she hasn't even thought of that yet—
"And what happens when the food runs out? Have you thought of that yet? Because believe me, I've thought of it, and it scares the hell out of me.” Her voice quavered, her eyes held unshed tears—tears he could see were a whisper from falling.
So she'd thought of the cannibal angle too.
Jason didn't stop to think. He'd done too much of that already. Instead, he pulled Cheyenne to him and kissed her with all the passion he'd been fighting. Sparks flew between them, their mouths fused together in an age-old dance of heat.
Any thoughts of snow, food and survival were lost. There was only here. Now. This instant in time, when Jason felt complete in a way he'd never felt before.
There had been other women, plenty of them, but none had made him feel this intense surge of warmth. It was more than lust. There was something far deeper pulling him to Cheyenne, holding them in its grip and erasing the rest of the world around them.
When Cheyenne broke their kiss, pulling back from him, it was as if a light was extinguished within him. Jason blinked, looking down into the eyes he'd come to know so well, and shook his head. Her words came out in a rush, chilling him.
"Jason, we can't. We can't do this. It's-it's just this place. The situation. None of it is real, none of it matters."
"Don't say that. It matters. We matter. This—what's growing between us as quickly as the snow falls from the sky—it matters."
"It's not real,” she whispered.
Jason gave her a soft shake, hol
ding Cheyenne's shoulders as carefully as if she were a porcelain doll. “It's real, like it's never been before."
Swallowing hard, Cheyenne said, “But you're Jason Sinclair."
"So?"
"And I'm just-just ... just me."
Jason pressed his lips to hers, sliding his tongue into her mouth for the scantest of touches before breaking the kiss. Grinning at her surprised expression, he said, “And I'm just me."
"One of the richest men in the world."
A furrow creased his brow as he searched for an answer to satisfy both of them. So many times his money had been a hindrance, bringing women to him like moths to a flame just so they could get their hands in his pockets. He'd never been able to find someone who was attracted to him, cared for him, without regard for his bank account. Until now. Miraculously, Jason was out-of-his-mind with wanting Cheyenne. Now, how to make her see what was right in front of their eyes?
"You won't hold that against me, will you? Listen, I don't know what's going to happen to us. I hope the snow stops and we put on the snowshoes in the corner, bundle up and make our way to civilization. If we do I'm going to try and make you as happy as you're making me. But whether or not we get out of here, I'm just a man who's attracted—very much, I might add—to a beautiful woman. A woman who cared enough about a nameless man to save his life, then enrich his life. So listen, darling ... can't we just forget about the rest and lose ourselves to what's happening now?” A thought, one he hadn't considered, raced through his mind. Pulling his brows tight, Jason stared down into Cheyenne's eyes. “Or maybe you're not feeling what I'm feeling? Is that it? Do you want me to stop because you don't feel something between us?"
A slow smile spread over her lips, making them even harder for him to resist. “I feel it. Don't stop, Jason. Please, don't stop."
Ember light cast dancing shadows across their exposed skin, heat from the room warming their bodies from the outside while their unhurried fingers and mouths warmed them from within.
Torrid Teasers Volume 40 Page 2