Page 8 of Their Little Snow Angel
But…nothing. Heath is still in the hot tub. His head is tipped back, exposing that rugged jawline made more rugged by his brown whiskers. I like that the brown of his whiskers is slightly darker than the light brown of his hair. It makes me want to know what the rest of his hair looks like.
I don’t think he’s wearing swim trunks. I could take him up on his invitation to join him in the tub, and try to see for sure. For science.
“What is wrong with you, Violet?” I say the words, but it’s Callum’s voice I hear.
As if he senses me watching him, Heath’s eyes snap open and he makes eye contact with me again. A slow smile spreads across his face, his white teeth glinting.
“Come on,” he mouths.
I can’t. I duck back past the window.
“Violet?” Brody’s voice is followed by a knock at my bedroom door.
No. I’m too humiliated. But if I don’t answer, he might come in to check on me. I clear my throat. “Yeah?”
“Sorry to bother you. I don’t know if you’ve seen, but there’s a storm warning?—”
I open the door. I keep my gaze fixed on my bare toes. The glittery red nail polish I used this morning mocks me, because I thought Callum would appreciate it. “I saw the storm warning.”
“Yeah. Sorry. It looks like we’re stuck here.”
“Yeah. It’s fine.” I was already miserable because of stupid Callum. Humiliated by trying to be sexy for him. Now I can be doubly miserable. Trapped in a cabin with my dad’s best friends. One of whom has just witnessed an entirely different kind of humiliation.
Brody reaches forward and uses a single knuckle to tilt my chin up. “Hey. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. So will Heath. Okay?”
I nod, meeting his gorgeous blue eyes. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
5
Violet
The storm hasn’t come in yet, but the brightness coming through my blinds tells me it snowed last night.
Last night. I want to bury myself in blankets and never leave this room. Brody saw those ridiculous toys, the ones I bought for Callum and me. He probably thinks I’m an absolute freak.
Maybe I am.
And I can’t believe I’m stuck in this cabin with Brody and Heath.
That barbecue where I first met them—they’d captivated me. Sure, I’d gone swimming with my younger cousins, I’d chatted with family and with my parents’ friends. But the entire afternoon and into the evening, I’d been focused on Brody and Heath.
I lie still, listening for sounds in the cabin. Nothing. Maybe they aren’t awake yet.
My purple bag is on the bed next to me, half shoved beneath pillows. Careful not to make any noise, I ease out the elegantly-wrapped glass dildo. The box says something about washing before use, so I find a pack of baby wipes tucked into the side of the bag—research told me they’re essential for kinky bedroom fun, especially when anal play is introduced. I use a wipe on the dildo before bringing it under the blankets. A quick scoot of my hips, and my pajama pants and underwear are down around my knees.
I use the bulbous head of the glass on my clit. Cold! Too cold. But it eventually warms.
With my free hand, I touch my nipples through my sleep shirt. Arousal sings through my blood. I move the dildo to my entrance and start easing it in.
It’s good. Really good. I’m taking my time, and it’s great, actually. Callum never took his time. Everything happened in the dark, as fast as possible.
I keep my movements slow, fucking myself with the dildo. A rough pinch to my nipple has me gasping loudly. Nope. Can’t do that—I don’t want one of the guys to come in here and investigate.
I slide my hand down to touch my clit, swirling my wetness around while the dildo works its magic.
My entire body goes hot as I lift my hips, matching my own strokes. So good. What if it was Brody in here with me, or Heath?
