by Roxy Wilson
Had he lost his mind? As always, she’d managed to bewitch him. There was simply no other explanation for it. How could he explain the fact that he was expending his energy chopping wood so that she could continue to keep him a prisoner in her cabin? Of course, he could leave any time he did what she wanted. With that thought, an image came into his mind. Her hands pressed on another man’s chest, her lips glued to his, and the man’s arms around her waist…
With a violent shake of his head, he displaced that image. He wasn’t going to go down that memory lane. It took him years to expel those horrible memories. What was the point in reliving them? Best to sit through this storm and then return to his life as quickly as he could.
Toby put all his raging frustration into the manual work. He cut a good-sized tree and hauled it into the cabin. After leaving it in a corner, he came back out to cut the logs for the fire. After two hours of hard work, he’d collected enough wood. It was a good thing that regular exercise was a part of his daily routine or else he would have been huffing and puffing by now. After stowing half of it in the shed, he carried the rest back to the cabin.
When he entered, Toby was amazed to see that she’d already set up the tree he’d brought in earlier in a pot. A box of Christmas ornaments stood under it, but he heard her puttering in the kitchen. The table was set up for dinner. On it stood a fat, white, lit candle; its fragrance permeated the cabin. He sniffed. Something smelled good.
She smiled when he entered the kitchen and pointed at the log box that sat next to the fireplace. “That should last us through the night. I’m going to decorate the tree tomorrow. Thanks for bringing it in.”
It was a blissful picture of domesticity. Anyone who stepped inside the room would have probably taken them for a romantic couple who were planning to spend some quality time together, but the reality was far from this illusion. Was this her scheme? Was she actually planning to entice him with her body and sweet talk and try to get back together? Was her whole talk about wanting to converse about their marriage a ruse to get him to soften up?
And damn it, it was nearly working. Every time she smiled at him, he felt desire unfurl in his belly. His hands ached to draw her in his arms. They had a history together. It was all too easy to imagine his arms around her, his lips roaming over her smooth, creamy skin, and her body bucking under his. Their lovemaking was dynamite. She was the only one who could reduce him to a state of hyperarousal with a mere look.
Maybe that is what she planned.
And if she did, he was on to her.
Rather than fight overtly, it might be better to bide his time so that he could better understand her motives. Toby was a master of stealthy maneuvers. He’d amassed enough business success to know that sometimes it was better to let the opponent think that he had the upper hand. This was just one such case—and he would play along until he got what he wanted.
After dumping the wood, he straightened. His lips lifted in a deliberate, warm smile. “Something smells delicious.”
For a moment, she looked nonplussed by his friendly demeanor. While stirring a pot on the stove, she lifted a shoulder. “I’ve made a casserole. It’s the perfect thing to go with this weather. Cold outside?”
“Slightly chilly, but the temperature is dropping fast.” Walking over to the sink, he washed his hands. It was obvious that she stepped a little to the side so that their arms didn’t brush. He was making her nervous. Good. Before this nightmare was over, he intended to do more than that. “Do we have enough blankets in here?”
“Yes. I’ll take them down from the cupboard.”
“Tell me which room they’re in and I’ll do it,” he offered.
She raised her eyebrows. “In your room.”
Toby went to do the work. It would keep his mind off his current predicament. What’s more, he wanted to plan a strategy. She was obviously not willing to give him what he wanted. So he would have to find it on his own. While he took down the blankets, Toby searched his room. His phone was nowhere to be found. As soon as he had an opportunity, he would search her room and the living area. When he came back outside, she was setting the table.
“You have some wine?”
“Ah, yeah, sure.” She grabbed a bottle from the cabinet. “Usually, there’s not much of a selection, but Cole left some here last time he and Lexi came over so you’re in luck.”
As he took the bottle from her hand, their fingers touched. An electric current ran through his veins, sizzling and burning with a maddening intensity. Desire exploded in his gut. He needed to touch and caress her and feast on her delicious mouth.
Instantly, he saw her under him, her bare and writhing body undulating in time to his ministrations. His lips moved back and forth across her plump lower lip, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. He reveled in the friction, the slide of her flesh, the thin and sensitive nerve-dense skin of her mouth. With gentle persuasion and a driving need he licked into her mouth. She tasted like home-cooked goodness—dried sage and grated Parmesan—and a bit of spice, the way he would imagine secrets tasting. Her tongue followed suit, tentatively searching out his unique flavor. He allowed her explorations, holding his breath, memorizing every millisecond. She finished with a swirl of the tip of her tongue across his teeth. Suddenly, he used his own to trap her. Suckling on her tongue, he introduced her to new sensations, new levels of desire.
She reacted as expected. Her body opened to him. Her arms spread, wrapping around his back and pulling him close. Her thighs fell apart. The warm, briny—almost like the ocean on a sizzling summer day—of her arousal turned the air thick with her musk. His nostrils flared, welcoming her invasion into another sense.
Brielle’s hair haloed her sweet face, giving her the look of an angel. But, with her high cheekbones and full lips, she looked so much more a succubus—a starving, craving creature. Toby ran a palm from her cheek and across her lips, feeling the hairs on the back of his hand tremble with her warm breath, and down the curve of her neck. He paused at her pulse point and felt her racing heart stutter. Caressing down, he traced the subtle edge of her collarbone and the valley between her breasts. He lowered his mouth to peck kisses behind her ear and the line of her shoulder. She sighed.
Taking a breast in each hand, he massaged the delicate globes and plied her body with confident strokes across her already peaked and pebbled nipples. Her back arched as she thrust her breasts at him.
Her knees bent and she lifted her bottom to grind, needy, pelvis to pelvis. She worked his cock between her legs. He slid up and down her slit, coating himself with her juice. She was as slick as satin. He groaned at the feeling of her warm, wet heat. She whimpered in response and tilted her hips again, so that her swollen clit could rub along his shaft with every movement he made. Her nails dug into the muscle at his shoulder, urging him on, wordlessly begging him for more, the slightest, tiniest bit more.
He released one breast, wishing he could slip lower to place his mouth where his hand had been. With reason, the need to do so threatened to stop his heart. He knew her skin would taste like sour sugar—similar to one of those candies you can find for cheap at the gas station. At first, a sharp tang, but with sucking, turning so sweet. He knew it had to be so. He tickled across her ribcage, loving the way her body moved against his own—soft and pliable where his was hard and steel. Combing his fingers through her trimmed bush, he flicked at her clit with his thumb, easing his other fingers into her cleft and opening her passage. He angled his cock and plunged forward, eager for her to feel his cock between her inner walls first. Forever. Wanting to brand himself in her core, her brain, her heart, her love.
Filling her in a single penetration, he grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up. Falling back, he forced her to straddle his hips and take him even deeper. He gripped her hip bones, looked up into her sable-brown eyes, and told her to ride him. Holding himself still, he begged her…needed her to take control. He wanted to watch her come apart before him. Lay herself bare.
All for him.
Startled by the image that popped in his head, Toby sucked in a deep breath. His eyes shot to hers. Her pupils were widened and she was rooted to the spot. Did she feel it too? From the panicked expression on her face, he could tell that she felt as alarmed as he felt. Toby took a careful step back. Nothing, it seemed, had changed as far as their chemistry was concerned.
“Lexi’s happy with him?” he asked in a causal tone so that she couldn’t tell that the storm that spun in his heart was eating him alive.
“Yes, of course, he loves her.”
I loved you too. The thought echoed in his mind. Toby drew in a deep breath. He needed to keep a tight rein on his emotions. He didn’t want her to know what a devastating effect this whole scenario was having on him. Memories of their marriage flooded his mind. So many times they had lunch like this. There were countless instances when they were simply happy to be with each other. They didn’t have money, but it was enough that he had her.
And she betrayed him in the worst possible manner.
Toby tasted the casserole. It was damn good. “Your cooking has definitely improved.” He coughed. “I mean, it was always delicious, but this is super.”
“Nice save.” She smiled. “The first part of that statement wasn’t exactly what a woman likes to hear.”
Toby paused with his fork in his hand. He cocked his head to the side. “There’s something different about you now. Not the way you look, and of course, you’re beautiful as always. It’s more the way you talk…you never used to…” He couldn’t exactly put his thoughts into words.
“I never used to talk much,” she completed his sentence. “Maybe that was one of the problems with our marriage. I should have expressed my feelings better.”
What the hell was she talking about? They didn’t have any problems in their marriage. It was perfect, or at least, he had thought so. “We used to talk,” he protested.
“No, you talked. I listened. You decided. I followed.” She raised a hand. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I’m blaming you. That was mostly my fault. I was so awed by your personality, and so much…” She halted. “Well, whatever! I guess I have learned that it’s better to spit out what’s on my mind than to hold on to old resentments. I wanted to please you all the time, but I didn’t realize that making you happy wouldn't ensure my happiness. I had to work on it separately. And that’s why I started working after…we weren’t together anymore. I wanted to fulfill my dreams.”
Toby pondered her words as he ate her delightful food. It was true that he’d been the stronger partner in their marriage. She didn’t work during those two years. Come to think of it, she was always there for him when he needed her. And he counted on her support more than he cared to admit. Without her, he wouldn’t have had the guts to start his own business. She was the one who encouraged and inspired him to reach out for his dreams.
But had he neglected her needs during those years? Did he take her for granted?
Of course not. This was her spinning that sticky web again in an attempt to entrap him. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of falling for this old ploy again. Whatever happened, he was determined to fight her on an even ground until she granted him his independence. He was a prisoner in this cabin, and it wouldn’t do to forget that fact.
Chapter Five
Two days with him, and Brielle was already feeling unsteady. The man could spin a potent charm. Every time she glanced at him, her body reacted in a way she hadn’t experienced for a long time.
What a lousy thing to happen! This wasn’t a part of her plan.
Rather than worry about the coming day, and what would likely happen if they were cramped together in the same cabin for days, she took a shower and went into the kitchen to make breakfast.
Given that she didn’t have an option, it was better not to dwell on this aspect of their situation and to focus instead on things that she could control. When he strode out of his room, she’d already made the waffles. It was time for her to brew the peppermint tea.
“Good morning,” he said.
She glanced up and smiled, which froze on her lips when she saw the desire she felt for him echoed in his eyes. A jolt shuddered through her body. For a second, she was back in her marital house when he would stumble out of bed after her and mutter sweet nothings in her ear while she cooked breakfast. Rather than allow him to see the pain that lanced through her eyes, she bent to pick out a pan from the drawer.
“Good morning. Would you like some waffles?”
“Yes, thank you.” His voice was gruffer and crispier than before, probably because he also realized the significance of the moment that had just passed. Would they ever be able to forget those years and move on with their lives? Well, he appeared to have done so, already. She was the one still languishing in those torturous memories.
Toby cleared his throat, and with that the spell that had enchanted the two of them broke. He took a seat at the kitchen table. “The weather’s terrible,” he commented as if they were two strangers who met at the bus station and needed to make small talk to fill in the time.
“Yeah, it is.” She slid the waffles on his plate and gave him a cup of tea.
Brielle walked towards the sink to rinse the few dishes that were in there. She peered outside through the window over the sink. Thick balls of snow swirled outside. They carpeted the ground and made the trees look gloriously white. Brielle had expected the snow to stop by the time morning rolled around, but when she woke up, it was still snowing. This wasn’t a part of her plan. She’d expected that when it stopped snowing, he would tell her whatever she wanted to know and then be on his merry way. But the man was as stubborn as a mule.
At least, in that regard, he hadn’t change. He wasted the whole day yesterday with his stupid, persistent obstinacy, and now there was no way he could leave until the storm stopped. Luckily, some of Cole’s clothes had been left here.
She glanced over her shoulders. “You need anything else, Toby?”
He gestured towards the other chair. “You want to join me?”
She hesitated. Why was he being polite all of a sudden? It was weird to see him like this, under the circumstances. But seeing as they were stuck together, maybe it was best to make the best of a bad situation. There was no sense bickering and arguing like a pair of teenagers with cabin fever. Brielle prepared a plate and sat across from him. Much to her relief, the meal was quiet and pleasant. She stared out at the snowflakes that swirled and spiraled down with consistency.
“This storm isn’t going to end anytime soon.”
“We won’t be able to leave until it’s over,” he agreed. “No one’s going to risk coming to pick us up in this weather.”
“I wasn’t planning to go down anyway. You…you can leave as soon as it becomes clear.”
“So you’re going let me go?”
“As soon as you tell me why you ended our marriage.” Without looking at him, she continued. “After you left, I started to work, made a name for myself. This business is great. I’ve moved on.” She shrugged. “But you know, I’m curious.”
She glanced up at him and was surprised to see an odd look in his face. Anger? Was he upset by something she said? Did it bother him when she said that she’d moved on? Well, she had. When he left, she realized that she’d buried her ambitions so that she could be there for him, to support him. After their marriage ended, she was admitted to a culinary school and later hired at a café. When Lexi presented her idea regarding their business, she jumped on it because it was right up her alley. It also helped that she had lots of time to devote to it. She gestured towards his empty plate. “Need anything else?” she asked.
In response, he pushed back his chair, causing its legs to grate annoyingly against the tile. He stood, picked up his plate and cup, and took them to the sink to rinse. Afterwards, he lined them in the dishwasher, washed his hands, and strode out.
“Where are you going? You’ll freeze outside,” she said.
What she said wasn’t true, of course. She’d broken into a million pieces. For two whole weeks, she couldn’t get out of bed. Lexi had to drag her to a therapist who prescribed medications along with a suggestion that she busy herself with some work. And that was when Janay helped her get admitted to culinary school. If her sisters hadn’t pushed and prodded her, she would have probably wasted her life grieving for the husband she lost, longing to have her life back.
But he didn’t need to know all that. Perhaps, if she led him to believe she was happy with his decision, he may actually tell her why he’d made that choice. Perhaps the reason why he wasn’t sharing was because he felt guilty.
He should!
No, he shouldn’t!
She was doing well. Everything was good. So what if she never found another man whom she was attracted to? Everyone paled in comparison to him. It seemed as if it was impossible for her to be attracted to someone. The attraction that drew them together was ever-present, and even now, with his close proximity, she could feel her heart thunder and her breath hitch in the throat.
But there was no point thinking like that. It was over. Brielle stood and sauntered over to the window to peer outside. Was he actually foolish enough to risk walking down in this terrible weather? Her heart pounded with fear. She didn’t want him to get hurt. That wasn’t the reason why she did this. If something happened to him, she would never be able to forgive herself. As she gazed out the window, her glance was drawn to the solitary figure who sat on the wicker chair in the patio. Thank God! He was still there. But he wasn’t wearing a jacket. And it was really cold outside.
Did he hate her so much that he would prefer to freeze to death rather than stay inside in the warmth of the cabin and just answer a simple question? Why couldn’t he tell her and be done with it?