by B. B. Hamel
I move my hips, working my ass, and he groans. We’re both sweating now as we move together, getting faster and closer. He pulls me tight against him, and I marvel at his muscular body, his arms as hard as iron, holding me tight.
And suddenly he pulls me back and stands. He takes me to the edge of the couch, up behind the arm. He pushes me over top of it, putting my ass in the air, my legs up off the floor. My face is in the cushion as I grip either side, and my ass and pussy are up in the air, supported by the arm of the couch.
He fucks me like that, like I’m just a dripping pussy for him to destroy. I love it so much I can’t stop my moans from ringing out in the large room. He rocks harder into me, rough and deeper.
“Cross your ankles,” he whispers, and I do as he commands. I can feel the muscles in my ass and pussy tighten around his cock, gripping him even tighter. He groans and starts fucking me in earnest, ripping into me, not slowing down or easing up.
I can’t stop myself anymore. I can’t help it. The orgasm rips through me, moving down my arms and legs and lingering in my mind as it explodes in bright flashes of pleasure. I come hard, gasping his name, begging him to keep going. He doesn’t relent, fucking me hard and rough, using my tight little body in absolute domination.
My orgasm slowly passes just as he groans. I feel him come inside of me, filling me up with his warmth. I love it, need it, and I gasp my desire as his grunts fill my ears. His fingers grip my hips and ass as he finishes, and when he’s done, we collapse onto the couch together.
We’re quiet as he holds me. I nestle my head against his chest and I can feel him smiling.
“I’m glad we played that game,” he says finally.
“Me too. Too bad you won.”
“I won?” He laughs. “I think you won. You got to ask all those questions, and you got fucked by me.”
“I think you won. You got fucked by me.” I grin and kiss his chest.
He tilts my head up and kisses my lips. He wraps his arms tighter around me and we linger there on the couch, buzzing in the pleasure of sex, and I suddenly can’t think of a single place I’d rather be than trapped in here with him.
10
Ethan
I wake up freezing my balls off on the couch, Mia curled up against me, a blanket pulled up tight around us.
I don’t remember falling asleep. After we slept together, we stayed up talking about nothing, mostly just smiling and laughing. And then we fucked again as the fire started to die down and the night grew deeper. After that I guess we passed out.
I pull the blanket off and get up, grunting to myself. It’s fucking cold as hell in here. I pull my clothes on before running up into my room to put on something warmer. It takes me a second to realize that the house doesn’t have any power.
Mia’s awake when I come back downstairs. “It’s freezing in here,” she says.
I nod, frowning. “Generator must have gone down last night.”
“Does that happen?”
I shrug. “Sometimes. Not often. I have to go check them.”
“Okay,” she says. “I’m gonna go put on something warmer.” She gets up and scampers upstairs, blanket still wrapped around her.
I frown to myself as I pull on my boots and head outside.
The snow’s still falling, though it’s starting to slow. Jones scampers around in the snow, hopping up and jumping down. I’d guess there’s at least a foot on the ground, maybe a little bit more. I have to trudge my way through heavy snow toward the small shed where I keep the generators and some of my tools.
I pull open the door and frown to myself. I could have sworn I locked the shed the last time I was in here, but it’s not unusual for me to forget. I step inside, shutting the door behind me and stomping the snow from my boots. Just ahead, the generators are set up in a row against the far back wall.
Two of them are still humming. I walk over and check them, and they seem fine. The center and the far left generators are the main power, and the far right generator is the backup. It’s only supposed to run if one of the first two fail. Fortunately, it’s running, but it doesn’t produce enough power to keep everything in the house going. The backup is purely for essential functions, although I can’t help but wonder why the heat would have been turned down, since that’s the most essential of all the functions. I know I didn’t run out of gas for the heater, since I had my enormous tank filled up just a couple of weeks ago.
I sigh and start to inspect the generator that isn’t running. It takes me a few minutes to realize that one of the fuel lines shattered, and the connection to the pump body itself is broken. That’s a critical error right there, and I can’t fix it without getting a part. Maybe I could rig something up, but it’s not worth the risk.
“How the hell did this happen?” I mumble to myself. I keep fiddling with the generator, hoping that I can make it work, although I’m pretty sure I can’t.
This thing confuses me. If they were outside, I could see the line freezing then expanding and cracking, but they’re not outside. Sure, it’s cold in the shed, but I doubt it dipped down so much in here to do serious damage. Then again, I haven’t been paying close attention to the weather lately, so maybe I missed something.
I grumble to myself, and then I hear something outside. I frown and head over to the shed door, pushing it open to spot Mia working her way through the snow toward me, wrapped in a big, heavy winter jacket.
“Hey,” she calls out. “You okay?”
“Yep,” I call back. “Get inside here.”
She steps into the shed with me, brushing herself off. “It’s brutal,” she says. “I really regret leaving the house.”
I laugh lightly at her. “Welcome to the mountains in the winter. This is actually a nice snow, believe it or not.”
“I don’t believe it,” she grumbles.
“We can go skiing in this, if you want.”
“Maybe some other time,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m way too cold as it is. Did you fix it?”
I shake my head and walk back over to the generator. “Looks like the fuel line froze and cracked overnight. But the backup’s running.”
“That’s good. So we can get heat?”
“We should have already,” I say, shrugging. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with that. I’ll have to check.”
She bites her lip. “What happens if we can’t get heat?”
She looks nervous, which just makes me smile. I’m not nervous, not at all. I step up toward her. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to keep you warm.”
“How are you going to do that?” she asks, eyes wide and innocent.
“Light a fire. Give you some whisky.” I step up close to her, lips grazing her ear. “Maybe slide my thick cock between your legs until you’re nice and hot.”
She pushes me away, smiling, and I grin at her.
“Don’t be a pig,” she says.
“Guess I can’t help myself around you.”
“Oh, right. It’s all my fault that you’re a raging animal.”
“Pretty much.” I sigh, kicking the broken generator. “This fucking thing. You know, I got the expensive ones to make sure they don’t break, right? And this shed is specially built to keep them safe.”
“Good thing you have a backup for your backup.”
“Yeah, well, if one more goes down, we’re toast.”
“Not toast,” she corrects. “We’ll be ice.”
I grin. “Good point. Come on, little ice. Let’s get back in the warmth. I’ll get the heat back on.”
“Sounds good to me. This place sucks.” She scampers out the door and I laugh. I follow her out, Jones hot on her heels, but I pause in the snow.
There are tracks in the snow, leading up to the shed’s door. Two sets lead from the house, which were made by me and Mia, but the third set heads off into the woods. They don’t look fresh though, they look like they were made hours ago.
I frown, staring at them, until Jones barks again.
“Come on!” Mia calls out, disappearing back inside.
I sigh, shaking my head. I’m probably just seeing things. I’m not even sure that they’re tracks. Still, I can’t shake the feeling as I head back inside. I take off my snowy boots and jacket, hanging it up in the garage as Jones shakes himself off. We head back into the house, and I find Mia curled up on the couch, blankets wrapped around her.
I head into the kitchen and I find the heat panel. Sure enough, the heat was simply turned off on the main panel. I switch it back on, and the house immediately starts heating itself again, hot air coming in through the vents and heat coming up through the floor.
I don’t know how the hell it got turned off. I screw up my face, trying to remember how this happened. I must have turned it off by accident last night.
“Hey, Mia?” I call out. “Did you touch this thing?”
She looks up at me. “What thing?”
“Little panel over here on the wall.”
She shakes her head. “Nope.”
“Huh. Okay. Well, the heat’s back on.”
“Awesome!” She kicks her feet into the air and I smile again, but something’s bugging me.
The heat was turned off by someone. The tracks in the snow suggest that someone entered the shed and went back out, away from the woods, although there was only one set of tracks from the woods and into the shed. Maybe whoever made them came from the house, and then headed out into the woods.
But who the hell did that?
Maybe the same person that turned off the heat.
I shudder, shaking my head. This is crazy. Nobody broke in last night just to turn off the heat. Why the hell would someone do that? It seems crazy. If someone wanted to break in and hurt us, they easily could have. We were fast asleep, and obviously Jones is useless upstairs in his room. Still, tonight I’m going to set the house alarm, just in case. I’ll have to remember to warn Mia later.
“Want some breakfast?” I ask her.
“Yes, please,” she says.
“Coffee?”
She hesitates. “Just a little bit.”
“Sure.” I go ahead and start cooking, but I can’t stop thinking about those tracks in the snow. It keeps bugging me, although I don’t know why. We’re out in the middle of nowhere, and nobody was out in that storm, it would be crazy.
I just need to distract myself. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just getting a little cabin fever, and there’s nothing like coffee to help clear the mind.
11
Mia
Soon, the heat comes back on, and I take a nice, long shower.
I keep thinking about the night before, about Ethan’s arms around my body, and it tears me into pieces. I want it again, really I need it again, but as soon as I touch my belly and think about what I have growing inside of me, I know I can’t do it. He makes me happy, even if this situation is insane. Everything I learn about him makes me want to learn even more.
Except there’s something dark inside of him, and he won’t let me see what it is. I want to pick him apart, peer behind that black veil of secrecy he keeps so tightly around him, but nothing I do can peek past. He’s pushing back, and I’m afraid of what that means.
I sigh, getting out of the shower, and towel myself off. As I go to wipe the mirror off, I hear a weird noise from my bedroom. I freeze, standing there, straining to hear.
“Hello?” I call out, but nobody responds. I push open the door, and stand there, eyes wide, staring at the dresser.
All of the drawers are pulled out. I know I didn’t do that, and most of them are empty anyway. I smile to myself after a second, figuring it’s just some weird prank
“I’ll get you back,” I say loudly before pushing the drawers back into the dresser. I go back into the bathroom and finish drying off, trying not to think about my little problem anymore. I get dressed, putting on a pair of his old jeans, faded and torn at the knees and too big, but surprisingly comfy. I pull on a flannel shirt he gave me, ripped at one elbow. I hate that I’m stuck wearing his stuff and no underwear, but I have no other choice really.
I head downstairs and find Ethan in the living room, the fire roaring, Jones curled up in front of the hearth. Ethan grins at me as I walk into the room.
“Fancy a game?” he asks.
I cock my head. “Game?”
He gestures at the board in front of him. “Risk.”
I laugh a little. “Oh god, seriously?”
“Seriously,” he says, a wicked little smile on his face. “I loved Risk growing up. Haven’t had someone to play with in ages.”
I climb over the back of the couch and crouch down in front of the board. He looks up at me, an inviting and cocky expression on his face, and suddenly I want to beat him so badly that it hurts.
“Okay, you’re on,” I say, climbing down to sit next to him. His grin gets bigger as he starts to set up the board.
I get up and walk over to his record player. The turntable’s this big wood thing with a black top and a black platter. The arm is black as well, and it looks like it weighs a million pounds. I pull a record from the cabinet at random, and end up with blind by The Sundays.
I put it on the turntable and it starts playing. A lilting English voice comes from the speakers, smooth and gorgeous, the guitars looping and jangling. Ethan looks up at me. “You’ll like the second track.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy to like this kind of music.”
“What kind am I supposed to like?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Not this English Brit-pop stuff though.”
“The Sundays are awesome,” he says, waving a hand. “You probably think I should be listening to country.”
“Yes!” I say, laughing. “Exactly. With a bigger beard, and more flannel.”
He makes a face. “Of course.”
I laugh, delighted at his response, and sit down on the couch again. The board is all set up, and so we start to play.
I decide to concentrate most of my forces in Australia. I take it pretty easily as he starts to build up in North America.
“You think that’ll work?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say. “I already have a bonus.”
“True. But it’s not a big one.”
“We’ll see,” I say, nudging against him.
We play in silence for a few more rounds. I can tell he’s taking this seriously, which just makes me happy. I start to spread out toward Asia, but quickly realize that’s a mistake. I pull back and aim for Africa instead.
“Where’d you learn to play?” he asks me finally.
“My dad taught me a long time ago,” I say.
“Were you two close?”
I shrug a little. “Close-ish. Closer when I was younger.”
“That’s how it always is, right?” He sounds a little rueful.
“Guess so. You grow older, and when you’re a teenager, you just hate everything.”
“True. And by the time you can appreciate your parents for what they are, they’re too old, and not the people they were when you were younger.”
“Sad, the way that works,” I say softly.
He nods, and says nothing. We concentrate on playing, taking territories, fighting glorious battles, until finally he has North America, most of South America, and I have Africa and Australia.
I have to make a choice. I can either move north into Europe, or I can force a conflict here.
I meet his eye and grin wickedly. “I’m attacking Brazil,” I say, my armies massed and ready.
“You sure about that?” he asks, grinning back. Brazil is pretty well-defended.
“You afraid?”
“Never,” he says. “But how about this. Let’s make this interesting.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I suspect you’re going to somehow try and get me naked.”
“You’re absolutely right,” he says, laughing. “Whoever loses has to perform a dare that the other person gives them.”
“A dare?”
I ask.
He nods. “Like in Truth or Dare.”
“Fine,” I say, feeling confident. “Let’s do this.”
I roll the dice. The first few rolls don’t go my way, but soon I start to chip away at his armies, and I can tell he’s sweating it.
We’re both hurting. If I were playing for strategy, I’d pull out of this fight now and leave it alone. Instead, I keep attacking, wanting to know who wins.
Jones suddenly perks up as I roll. His head is cocked, and he’s looking at the stairs.
“Ready?” I ask him. We’re both down to our last armies.
“Always.” He crosses his arms, grinning huge.
I roll. He looks up at me. And then there’s a noise from upstairs.
We both freeze, and Jones barks.
“Jones!” Ethan says, but he doesn’t sound upset. He stands up, looking at me.
“Yeah, go ahead,” I say. “Check it out.”
He nods, leaving the room, Jones on his heels. He disappears upstairs.
I don’t know what the noise was. It sounded like a thump, like something heavy hitting the floor, but I don’t know what could have fallen over. Maybe a picture broke off a nail or something like that, some bizarre thing with a perfectly normal explanation.
But then I remember the drawers and the generator, and I feel a chill run down my spine.
Ethan comes back a couple minutes later, frowning. “Nothing,” he says.
“Nothing?” I stand up.
“I mean, I couldn’t find anything that fell. I checked every room, every closet, and nothing. Jones is still running around, sniffing like mad.”
“Do you think…?” I trail off, worried.
He smiles at me. “It’s okay,” he says. “I bet it’s just some animal that got into the vents.”
“Does that happen?”
He shrugs. “We live in the mountains. Not that unlikely.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe it was a bird, landing on the roof.”
His smile gets bigger. “Now you’re thinking. Don’t worry, it’s nothing.” He walks over and sits down next to me. “So, I think you were about to give me a dare?”