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The Storm's Gift

Page 2

by A. D. Ellis


  James unlocked his door before handing me the key. “You need this before I leave, right?” He pushed into his room, walked to his dresser, and immediately rummaged around in a drawer, using the dim glow of the flashlight. He pulled out a battery-powered phone charger. “I’ll just let my phone juice up a bit while I grab my things.”

  I nodded and did my best to be helpful by shining the flashlight where I thought he needed it most. He dressed, laid out his wet clothes to dry, and threw his belongings in a duffel bag.

  “Dude, your phone just woke up. Sounds like you’ve got a shit-ton of messages from all the vibrating it’s doing.” His phone buzzed and glowed in the dark as it danced with notifications. James threw the duffel bag over his shoulder and picked up his phone.

  I knew immediately the news was bad when his shoulders sagged and his head dropped.

  “You okay?” Genuinely concerned, I stepped farther into the room.

  James threw himself on the bed after dropping his bag to the floor. Burying his face in the pillow, he spoke through muffled tears. “No. I’m not. My parents are a little south and west of Chicago. They said they’ve been hit hard by the snow, and it’s only getting worse. Told me not to come home until the storm stops and the roads clear. Mom’s scared of my driving straight into worse than what we’re getting here. And Dad said most of the area is already shut down.” James took a deep, shuddery breath.

  I heard the thick tears still lodged in his throat. I was trained to deal with new freshmen feeling homesick, but the sight of James crying messed with me more than I cared to admit.

  “Man, I’m sorry.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. A thumb through the local news confirmed that law enforcement had issued a travel ban on nonemergency vehicles. “Sounds like your parents are right to be worried. Weather emergencies and travel bans all around here. Looks like all of northern Illinois and northern Indiana are getting hit hard with more to come as night falls. The deep snow will take a while to clear, but the ice will be the most damaging part. It can take weeks to get the power lines repaired completely.” I plopped down next to James on his bed. “You okay?”

  “Stop asking me that. Of course I’m not okay.” James continued to speak into his pillow. “I just found out I don’t get to spend Christmas with my family. I’m stuck in this hellhole. I have no money and almost no food. So, no, I’m definitely not okay.”

  I winced. James’s break was shaping up to be quite different than mine. “No worries. I’ve got food. We won’t starve.”

  “Why are you staying here, anyway?” James sat up, wiping his eyes.

  “Honestly?”

  James nodded.

  “My parents are jetting off to Italy, and I need a break to recharge after….” I paused, not sure I wanted to admit Jensen had offset me so badly.

  “Jensen?” James wrinkled his nose.

  “Dang, did the whole campus know Jensen dumped me?” My cheeks heated, but I shook it off. “Yeah. The breakup was unexpected. I just want to spend two weeks resting and relaxing.” I shivered in the drafty room.

  The wind was howling through the windows. With no power and the wind whipping around outside, the rooms would get cold quickly.

  “Well, I promise not to bother you.” James lay back down on the bed and pulled his covers up around his chin. “I’ll see you next semester.”

  “You can’t stay in bed for two weeks, dumbass.” I gave his shoulder a shove.

  “I can try.” James mumbled from somewhere beneath the blankets.

  “Come on down to the main floor. I’ve got food. We can use the staff kitchen and laundry room.” I shoved him again. “Plus there’s a fireplace to keep us warm.”

  “No, I’m not going to crash your vacation. I’ll be fine here. Plus the kitchen and laundry only work when there’s power, and I doubt we’ll be getting that back very soon.”

  I worried my lip. “True. It will likely take at least a day or two before crews get the power back on. But the fireplace doesn’t need electricity. And I’ve got plenty of food that doesn’t need power. We can survive with no laundry for a while.”

  “I may come down later. I’m tired, I just want to sleep for now.” James’s eyes drifted shut. “Just shut the door behind you.”

  I watched him for a moment, wondering if I should really leave him alone. What the hell? He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself. Why did I feel compelled to comfort him and care for him?

  Placing his key on his bedside table, I shut the door softly before making my way down to the main floor. I’d check on James later, just to be sure he wasn’t freezing to death. Maybe bring him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich so I knew he wouldn’t starve.

  My first order of business was getting a fire started. I busied myself with the starter log and a big chunk of wood from the pile my boss had left at the back door.

  “Nothing like a good fire to warm the soul,” she’d said while piling the logs before leaving.

  Once the fire was started, I stood back and watched to be sure it would stay burning before I set up my temporary living space. The main-floor common area had two full-size couches, a kitchenette off to the side, and a television. In addition to the kitchen and laundry room, I had access to the staff-only shower room.

  Within an hour, I had everything set up, and I was feeling warm and cozy in my new two-week digs. Not to mention sleepy. With the fire roaring and the wind howling, I sprawled out on the couch and fell asleep within moments.

  I WOKE slowly, wrapped in a warm cocoon of firelight and a soft quilt. Recalling the elevator and an almost naked James, I quickly donned my slippers and a hoodie before trekking through the dark dormitory to make sure all was safe and secure.

  Nothing was amiss, but the temperature in the old building had dropped drastically since the power had gone out. I could see my breath in the shadowy light of my flashlight. James had to be freezing up in his room. He’d been wet and cold to begin with, being stuck in a cold room with only a couple blankets wouldn’t be enough to warm him up.

  Filled with worry over James, I took the stairs two at a time. My nose was cold, and my chest heaved with each breath of the icy air. No way was I letting James stay holed away in his room. I wouldn’t have him getting sick while I was the head RA on duty.

  Knocking lightly, I waited for James to come to the door. When I heard no movement on the other side, I began to worry. I slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open slowly. “James?” Unsure of what I would find, I tiptoed to his bed and sat down. After reaching for the lump under the blankets, I gave him a gentle shake. He didn’t move and that worried me even more. Grabbing his hand, I was shocked at the extreme iciness of his skin. “James? Come on, wake up. It’s way too cold up here. You’ve got to come downstairs.”

  James turned to me, blinking slowly as he attempted to get his bearings. “Huh?”

  He was clearly confused. Not a good sign. But maybe it would make it easier to convince him to come down to the fire.

  “Power went out, man. Dorm policy says you can’t stay up here. You’ve got to come to the main floor where the fire is.” The little white lie rolled easily from my tongue. I didn’t have time to feel guilty. I needed James drinking hot soup and sitting in front of the fire while his frozen body warmed.

  James just nodded as he lumbered from the bed. Dragging his blanket with him, he stumbled toward the door, looking like an overgrown toddler. I pulled the door shut behind me and followed him to the stairs. When James struggled to open the door to the stairway, I put my arm around him and pulled the door wide. “Here, lean on me.”

  “I feel fuzzy.” James’s words were slow and his steps unsure.

  “I know you do, bud. Let’s get you in front of the fire. I’ll warm some soup and get you something warm to drink. You’ll feel better soon.” I knew James was suffering from at least some mild hypothermia, and I needed to act fast unless I wanted him to get progressively worse. Running through the first aid training in
my head, I remembered warming him slowly was important. And no caffeine or alcohol.

  After leading James to the fireplace, I helped him sit on the rug and wrapped him in two thick quilts. “You sit right here and let the fire warm you up. I’ll make you some soup and hot chocolate.” Would the caffeine in the chocolate be bad? I figured the warmth and protein of the milk would be more beneficial. But chicken soup first.

  I set right to work opening a can of soup and pouring it into a camp pot to set on the rack above the fire. Mentally reminding myself to use a hot pad when I removed it, I poured some milk in a tin mug and placed it over the fire, as well. Glancing at James, I saw he was slipping back to sleep, and I was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing.

  I grabbed the soup pot from the fire, stirred the steaming broth, and poured it into a mug. “Hey. James? Need you to wake up and drink this.”

  James’s eyes fluttered open and he stared blankly at the cup of soup in front of him. I retreated momentarily when I saw he wasn’t going to take the cup. Removing the mug of milk from the fire, I quickly stirred in the hot chocolate mix. I brought both mugs and a spoon back to the fire, then put the hot chocolate aside and dipped the spoon into the soup. Images of parents playing “airplane” with their child’s food bombarded me, but I shook off the foolish notion and spooned soup into James’s mouth. I dabbed at the soup as it dribbled from his lips, and immediately reprimanded myself for wanting to lick the droplets from his mouth. The man is suffering from hypothermia and homesickness, sicko. Stop thinking about how much you’d like to kiss him. Maybe the breakup with Jensen messed with me more than I thought. I shook my head, trying to clear the inner monologue and focus on getting James warmed up.

  By the time James had eaten most of the soup and moved on to the hot chocolate, he was beginning to shiver, which I knew was a good sign. But the shivering made him slosh the hot chocolate over the rim of the cup. I grabbed a straw from the kitchenette and held the mug while James sipped.

  “At the risk of sounding totally cliché, I’m thinking we need to use my body heat to warm you up.” I blushed as I suggested it, but I knew it was a tried-and-true way to ease hypothermia.

  James was shaking still, but his skin was pinking up and he was less confused than he had been earlier. I felt confident he was on his way out of the woods, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I pulled the couch closer to the fire and stripped down to just my boxers and a T-shirt. I helped James to stand, removed the already askew and smudged glasses from his face, and placed them on the coffee table. I led him to the couch and pulled him down with me. I positioned myself behind him so the fire warmed his front and I warmed his back. Three blankets draped around our bodies, and I added a fourth as an extra layer over our feet.

  “Damn, man, you’re still fucking cold.” I shivered as I pulled him close, propping myself on one elbow so I could hold him while still studying his face.

  “Sorry,” James mumbled. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Shut up.” I jostled him, hoping he knew I was joking. “And, yeah, I sort of do have to do this. It would be really shitty if you died on my watch. So rest and warm up. No dying,” I teased as I felt my own body warm in response to having James in my arms.

  Not one to usually notice or pursue younger guys, I would be lying if I said I hadn’t ever noticed James. But only because of my job as head RA. Right? I made it a point to know about all of my residents. I noticed James because he was antisocial, quiet, and hidden most of the time.

  Yeah, and I blocked out the part about him being sweet, sexy, innocent, and drop-dead gorgeous because I was dating Jensen. But, now, it’s pretty hard to block all of those things, isn’t it?

  My head needed to shut up. In my arms, James relaxed into sleep, and I let my own eyes drift shut. My two-week break sure wasn’t starting the way I’d planned, but sleeping with a sexy-as-fuck man wasn’t a bad alternative to wallowing in a break-up during Winter Break.

  Chapter 4

  James

  MY CHEST and face were on fire. I turned away from the heat only to find myself chest-to-chest with Rory Blackwell. Surely I’d died out in the blizzard and was in heaven. Rory’s warm body cocooned mine, his breaths coming in soft puffs across my cheek, and his rock-hard cock pressed firmly against my thigh. No doubt about it, I’d died and gone to heaven. I regretted the fact I’d died a virgin, but at least the afterlife was starting on a promising note.

  Rory’s eyes fluttered open, and his face broke into a soft smile that felt as if it was just for me. Not a teasing, mean, or bullying sneer. But an honest-to-God smile that made my insides all gooey.

  “Hey there.” Rory stretched his entire body.

  When his dick shifted and pressed hard against my own, we both gasped and found ourselves lost in each other’s eyes.

  “Hey.” I could only whisper as I fought the desire to thrust myself against him over and over. If I thought about it for too long, I would come in my pants.

  With absolutely no warning and no explanation, Rory leaned toward me. His free hand pulled the back of my head so our lips were separated by only a wisp of air. Before I knew what was happening, Rory’s lips captured mine. His mouth was warm and inviting as he opened for me and allowed my tongue to trace his lips. Rory groaned and deepened the kiss. I knew then and there what heaven tasted like.

  “Is this okay?” Rory pulled away slightly, his breathing coming as heavily as mine.

  “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s better than fine,” I panted, and prayed he wouldn’t stop kissing me.

  “You’re lucid and know what’s going on? You were pretty out of it earlier. I’d be a complete ass if I kissed you while you weren’t totally aware.” Rory trailed his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck.

  “So I’m alive? This is real?” I felt dumb asking the question, but I needed to know the moment wasn’t a dream.

  Rory laughed. “Yeah, you’re alive. I was worried there for a while, but the fire and the warm liquids seemed to do the trick.”

  “Thank you for helping me.” I blushed and glanced at Rory’s mouth, wishing we’d stop talking and start kissing.

  “So you’re totally okay with this?” Rory traced a thumb over my lips and rocked his hips against mine.

  “Completely okay.” I groaned, thrusting my cock against his and opening my mouth to nibble on his thumb. “Who wouldn’t be? You’re gorgeous, successful, and kind. I may not be socially adept, but that hasn’t kept me from noticing you.” Giddiness bubbled inside when Rory blushed at my words.

  After rolling us to the floor, Rory spread the blanket and removed the rest of his clothing. then trailed his fiery gaze down my chest. I gasped as Rory leaned in to flick first one nipple and then the other with his tongue.

  “Lay down,” Rory demanded with a gentle push.

  Rory’s lips made a hot path down my chest, stopping only long enough to dip his tongue in my navel before trailing toward my waistband. His eyes lifted, making the unasked question clear. I nodded and lifted my hips so Rory could slide off my pants and boxer briefs.

  My brain stuttered and tried to make sense of what was going on. Rory Blackwell was naked on the floor of Cromwell Hall—with me, James Austin. It wasn’t a hazing, it wasn’t a dare, and it wasn’t a joke. He was as turned on as I was, if his massive cock was any indication.

  And then his mouth was on my dick, and I fought the urge to thrust and explode in his mouth. “Fuck.” I panted and struggled to think of anything that would keep me from coming like a fourteen-year-old.

  “Touch me,” Rory whispered.

  “Want to taste you.” I maneuvered us to the classic sixty-nine position I’d only ever read about and had absolutely no real-life experience with. But within seconds, my cock was back in Rory’s mouth, and my tongue was darting out to taste the pearly bead leaking from his swollen head.

  Sixty-nine was clearly all it was touted to be.

  “Mmmm, so good.” Rory lapped at my slit an
d moaned when I took him deeper into my mouth.

  Taking Rory as deep as I could, I nuzzled my nose against his tight balls. My own sac was drawn up, and I knew I’d blow with a couple hard pumps of Rory’s hand. As if he read my mind, Rory fisted my cock as he continued to suck me and tongue my head. Mimicking his moves, I gripped his cock and pumped hard before cupping his balls and trailing a finger toward his hole.

  “Oh, fuck. Don’t do that unless you want me to come down your throat,” Rory growled and continued working my dick.

  “Do it. Come in my throat,” I begged as I basked in knowing I was bringing Rory Blackwell such pleasure.

  “Not until you come for me.” Rory wet a finger and pressed the slick digit against my tight pucker. “You ever have a cock in here?”

  I whimpered, shaking my head.

  “You ever fuck anyone?” Rory continued teasing my hole with his wet finger.

  Again I shook my head and tried to concentrate on sucking his cock. When Rory gasped I got brave and allowed my hand to trail toward his ass. Rory’s groan filled the air as I fingered his hole. I paused in my sucking and gritted my teeth in hopes of controlling the orgasm that was rushing straight to my dick.

  “You’re a virgin?” Rory’s finger breached the first ring of resistance, and I cried out at the sting and throbbing ecstasy.

  We set a rhythm of sucking, thrusting, and fingering until neither of us could take the torture any longer. Pulling our dicks from the other’s mouth, we shot our release all over each other’s chests and chins.

  As I lay panting in front of the fireplace, I shivered in sheer delight at what we’d just shared.

  “You cold?” Rory wiped the mess from our chests with a nearby sock and tossed my clothes to me. Once we had dressed, we cuddled under the blankets, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  I smiled sleepily against his chest. I was crushed I wouldn’t be home for Christmas, but having my first real sexual experience with a guy, especially a guy like Rory, was almost worth missing the holiday with my family.

 

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