Page 50 of Love Under Snowfall

Images of the bronzed man edging her toward the very bed she laid in was slowly—ok, fine, quickly—driving her mad. There was only one way that she’d be able to finally drift off, and counting sheep wasn’t it. Reaching down, she slipped her fingers beneath her panties, stroking purposefully to quell the fever that lingered there. It didn’t take long for her to summit the pinnacle and slide down the other side, a quiet whine slipping from her lips as she reveled in ripples of pleasure.

Two point four seconds later, she passed out, drooling on her pillow.

Chapter twenty-seven

Monday, 4 days until the wedding: Benjamin

“Ouch!” Benjamin hissed, sucking on his pinkie to relieve the sting of accidentally touching the stove. He shook his hand out beside him as he labored over breakfast, adding enough water and powdered milk to the oats to get just the right consistency. He scowled at the thick paste and added more liquid.

He’d woken up in a miserable mood with a back nearly as stiff as the erection he’d tried to ignore all night. After returning Francesca to bed untouched—well, nearly untouched—featuring an admirable display of self-control, he might add, Benjamin had struggled to fall asleep. Eventually, he managed to relax his mind enough to reverse the blood flow pulsing below his waistband. That is until he heard the telltale wobble of bedsprings and a satisfied little whine seeping through the bedroom walls. At that point, all progress was lost.

As he continued with the oatmeal, pondering the injustice of masturbatory double standards, the bedroom door cracked open.

“Morning,” came the husky, sleep-addled greeting.

“Mm-hm,” he murmured.

“Sleep all right?”

“Fine.”

She sniffed the air and grinned. “You’re making me breakfast?”

“What makes you think I’m sharing?” He glowered down atthe pot he stirred.

She tugged on her snow bibs.

“It’s a rough trek to the pit toilet this morning. It snowed eighteen inches and counting by my estimation, and the wind is brutal.” As if on cue, an ominous howl whipped around the little cabin, rattling the shutters. “Blew the glasses right off of me when I went earlier.” Benjamin adjusted the black frames as they slipped down his nose.

Francesca moved to stand beside him. He glanced over his shoulder and caught her just as she clocked the state of his eyewear.

“What happened?” She choked on a hiccupy giggle.

“I stepped on them.” He grumbled, remembering how the wailing wind had drowned out his enraged roar. Fortunately, it had only been one of the arms and not the already scuffed lenses. A small twig and a bit of first aid tape made them wearable.

Francesca leaned in and evaluated his patch job.

“Not too bad,” she murmured, reaching up to touch the tiny splint. She sucked in a breath as Benjamin encircled her wrist.

“My point is”—he released her and turned back to the oatmeal—“that it’s rough out there. Do you want an escort?”

“Breakfast and security detail. Be still my heart.”

“I’m also making tea.”

“The trifecta. You’re going to make a Mrs. Professor Clark one happy lady someday.”

He grunted.

“Teasing.” She moaned, rolling her eyes in judgment. “Thanks for the offer, but I can manage the out and back on my own. If I don’t return in five, come find me.” She stepped into her boots and out the door.

Through the night, the storm had seemed to settle yet awoke in the early morning with renewed fervor, guaranteeingan extension to their stranding. Perhaps they’d get lucky and the squall would die down enough for them to make their way out of the valley. Though Benjamin rarely found himself to be that fortunate.

He dished up two bowls and carried them, along with the brown sugar and raisins, to the little table. As he poured boiling water over the teabags in each mug, the front door burst open.

Shivering and splatted like a Jackson Pollock on all sides with snow, Francesca hustled into the cabin. She pressed her weight against the door to latch it shut then made a beeline for the stove.

“Holy fuckery of fucks, it’s c-cold out there,” she said as she peeled off her coat and bibs and shook the flakes from her hair.

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