Snowed In (4 page)

At least a foot of it.

“I'm glad I wore my snow boots,” she said as they tromped off toward their cars.

“Listen,” Gavin said, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “I know you said you don't want a ride and I'm not trying to be pushy or anything, but I have four-wheel drive, and I'm guessing you don't.”

She looked at her sensible, compact car, getting more buried by the second. “No, I don't.”

“Please, for my own peace of mind, will you let me drive you home?”

“What will I do with my car?”

“Brick won't mind. I'll come pick you up in the morning so you can get it. What time do you have to be at work?”

Her brain was overflowing with possibilities. “Eight.”

“Okay, I'll pick you up at seven-thirty, plenty of time. You can pay me back by returning my library books.”

“They're not overdue, are they?”

“Not if you return them tomorrow, they're not.”

For his own peace of mind. It was the least she could do for him after such a nice date. So she climbed into his truck and waited while he started it and swept snow off the windows.

As the inside of the truck warmed up, her mind raced. Several times at dinner her ex had come up, mostly to mention that they had hardly spoken. He had called once to ask if she had accidentally packed his Nickelback CDs (no), and once to ask where she put his ties because he had a job interview (on a hanger on the closet door, right in front of his face). Gavin had tactfully stepped around that minefield. Now, though, she had to admit that Dave was still a minefield for her, and maybe she wasn't ready for this. Maybe she wasn't ready to forget Dave and move on to the next guy.

On the other hand, she hadn't felt like crying at any of those memories, which was a real sign of progress. And there was no saying that this thing with Gavin had to go anywhere. There was chemistry, sure, they had proven that in the grocery store (still blushing thinking about it). So maybe what she needed was to relish some strictly physical chemistry. What was it that woman had said? Fuck the bastard out of her system.

On the other hand, she was starting to
like
Gavin. She'd had a great time with him at dinner. She didn't want a new emotional entanglement when she was still entangled in an old one.

On the other hand, he
was
doing her a favor by driving her home. So maybe she could just save him the trip in the morning.

Maureen had long run out of hands by the time Gavin got in the car, rubbing his palms together in front of the heat vents. After a few seconds, he put the car in gear.

“Okay, where to?”

Maureen took a deep breath for courage. “Actually . . .”

Chapter 7

It was the longest damn drive of Gavin's life. Usually it took him about five minutes to get to his house from the Cold Spot, but the snowstorm—and it was definitely a snowstorm—was swirling drifts in front of his windshield and it was hard enough to keep the car on the road without all the wind. There was barely room in his brain to remember the way Maureen had bitten her lip and suggested that maybe she should just go home with him.

They could keep each other warm, she had said with a shrug. And it would save him a drive in the morning.

He admired her practicality.

But right now his hands were freezing in their death grip on the wheel while sweat beaded on the back of his neck. He spared Maureen a quick glance, only to see her staring wide-eyed out the window with her fingers clutching the sides of her seat.

“You okay?”

He thought he saw her nod. “Yes,” she squeaked. “Don't worry about me, please.” Right, eyes on the road.

He managed to turn onto his street with minimal skidding. Just half a block, then muscle up the driveway, and they were home. He noticed that Marv's car—or what he assumed was Marv's car under all that snow—was parked in front of Pippa's garage. No way he was getting his own garage door open, and he was too wiped out to shovel the drive. He would regret it in the morning, but he parked the car outside the garage anyway and turned it off.

“Ready?” he said, turning to Maureen. She looked white as a sheet. He wasn't sure if he should take that as an insult to his driving or to the potential of spending a night with him, but since both insults were pretty bad, he shook it off and opened his door. He was halfway around the car when Maureen spilled out, nearly slipping on the driveway.

“Oomph,” she said into his chest as her face collided with it.

“Are you okay?”

“No problem,” she replied, keeping a death grip on his arms. They braced themselves against the wind and headed up the front steps. Once they were inside and peeling off their snowy layers, Maureen said, “You know, snow is really beautiful in postcards, but this is a little overkill.”

“It was stupid of us to go out tonight. Did you notice we were the only fools on the road?”

“I was trying very hard not to look. Not that I don't trust your driving,” she added quickly. “Thank you, by the way, for getting us home safely.”

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Were you scared, sweetheart?”

She wouldn't meet his eyes. “I wouldn't say scared,” she said, waving her hands in front of him.

She was nervous as hell. He could see it. That was okay. She probably hadn't been with anyone since what's-his-name. He was ready to take it nice and slow, even if that meant him sleeping on the damn couch.

But he had to at least try.

He pulled her into his arms, rubbing his hands up and down her back. “We're safe and warm now,” he said softly.

“I don't know about warm.” Her laugh was muffled by his chest.

“You're cold?” he asked, pulling back.

She looked up at him now, and her eyes met his with a look that told him she wasn't nervous anymore.

“What if I am?”

“I could do my best to warm you up,” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders. He moved away into the house. “Come on upstairs. I'll get you a blanket.”

Maureen nearly sputtered in shock. A blanket? She gave him her best come-hither look, and he offered her a blanket?

“Gavin . . .”

He turned from the stairwell. “Let me give you a quick tour. The whole downstairs is my office; not very interesting. I live upstairs. I still use the kitchen down here, but everything else . . .”

“Gavin!” she said, stopping him in his tracks. “I don't want a tour.”

“Oh?” he said, stepping closer. “What do you want?”

She gave up on the come-hither look. It would be way too embarrassing to have that fail again. So she took a step forward in her stocking feet and grabbed the front of his flannel shirt, pulling him close. “I want you,” she said, then pulled him close for a kiss.

Gavin wasn't prepared for her boldness and he nearly slipped in his socks on the hardwood floor. But her grip was strong, and he clamped his hands on her waist and pulled her flush against him.

If the kiss in the grocery store could melt ice cream, this one was going to wreak havoc on the polar ice caps. She opened her mouth, teasing his tongue with hers, nipping at his lower lip. He moved his hands from her waist to her head, trying to keep her in one place so he could go deeper into that sweet, hot mouth. She moved her arms around his neck, hitching herself up closer to him, pressing into him. He couldn't decide which he wanted closer—her mouth, or that lush body. It was too much. He was drowning. This was just a kiss. If kissing her was like this, imagine what . . .

He groaned and moved his hands down to her ass. He gave it the squeeze he had been waiting all night to do, ever since she'd walked in front of him into the restaurant. God, she felt good. He needed her closer. But Maureen stepped back, breathing heavily.

He was about to protest—forget taking it slow—when she reached to the hem of her sweater and whipped it over her head. She was wearing—holy shit—a bra that was icy blue and very see-through. He knew he was staring, but he didn't care. She had the most amazing breasts. He couldn't wait to see them uncovered. But when he reached forward, he just ran a finger along the lacy edge of her lingerie.

“This is very pretty,” he said, low, and he could see her nipples harden under the flimsy fabric.

“It's new.”

“I like it.” He bent down and kissed the swell of her breast over the top of the bra. “I like that I can see through it.” He ran his fingers gently over the fabric. “I like that I can feel you through it.” He moved his mouth down, taking her nipple into his mouth and gently pulling. She gasped and clutched his shoulders.

“It has matching panties.”

He froze and looked up at her.

“Are you wearing them?”

“Yes,” she whispered. He growled and pulled her closer to take her mouth again. He bent his knees and hitched her up, wrapping her thighs around his waist. She gasped in surprise, but held on. Good girl. He turned, then started toward the stairs.

“Wait,” she said, breathless. “Stop. I can walk.”

“Not stopping,” he said, reclaiming her mouth.

“Gavin, please! You're going to drop me.”

“Not that heavy.” She was tall, so it was a little awkward. Who made these staircases so damn narrow?

“Gavin, stop!” She braced her arms on the banisters on either side of the stairs. He stopped. “Put me down.” He obeyed.

“Thank you.” She reached up to kiss him sweetly on the mouth. “These stairs are very steep,” she said in between kisses. “I don't want you to hurt yourself.” He felt her unbuttoning his flannel shirt. “Or me.” She pushed it off his shoulders, running her hands down his arms. “Plus,” she said, reaching to his waist to pull off his T-shirt, “I want you to save your energy.”

Damn, what this girl did to him! He pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed for her again, but she was too fast, sprinting up the stairs. When she got to the top, of course, she didn't know which way to go. Ha! She was trapped. She shrieked with laughter as he grabbed her around the waist from behind and hoisted her up into his arms.

“I got plenty of energy, little lady,” he said in his best John Wayne. “Don't you worry about me.” He walked her through the bedroom door and tossed her on the bed. Her breasts gave a very satisfying bounce when she landed. “Now let me see those matching panties.”

 

 

Maureen was unprepared when Gavin picked her up and tossed her across the bed, but the laughing complaint died on her lips when he came over her, trapping her between his powerful arms. He leaned down to her mouth, abandoning it quickly to trail wet kisses down her neck, between her breasts, and down her stomach. She squirmed under him, the urge to cover herself up overwhelmed by her need to have him touch her everywhere.

His hands explored her thighs and her ass, squeezing gently as he moved over her. She felt his fingers at the button of her jeans and she thought,
finally
, and then she was lifting her hips and her jeans were torn off her, pulling her bulky socks with them. She heard him let out a little curse, then felt the bed shift as he stumbled off.

“What?” She struggled to sit up. “Where are you going?”

“I'm sorry, I can't wait anymore.” Gavin bent over quickly, pulling his jeans and his underwear off together.

When he stood up, Maureen gasped. He
was
a god. She hadn't got a good look at shirtless Gavin when they were in the stairwell, but now that she saw him in the dim light of his bedroom—well, she thought men were only built like that on the covers of romance novels. He was built, not huge, but his muscles were clearly defined under the thin dusting of dark hair on his chest. His flat stomach contracted into a defined six-pack as he sucked in a breath, and she found her gaze following the dark trail of hair leading past his waist to . . . oh, yes, he was definitely a god.

“Okay?” he asked quietly, coming to lean over her again. She just nodded mutely, focusing on his eyes, dark with lust.

“You're beautiful,” she finally said, running her hands gently up his arms to his shoulders. She had a thing for strong shoulders. Strong backs, too. Must be some sort of evolutionary imperative.
Holy shit, Maureen, stop thinking about evolution. You're in bed with a god!

He laughed softly into her neck. “That's the first time anyone's ever said that to me.”

He found the sensitive pulse on her neck, sending heat instantly down her body. She arched against him as he ran his hand down her side, over her hip, taking her panties with him.

“Those are pretty, but they're in the way.” She reached down as he said it and he throbbed in her hand, big and hot. He groaned and grabbed her wrist. When she whimpered in protest, he whispered, “Next time,” and kissed her gently on the lips.

Oh, boy.
Next time
, Maureen thought as she grew impatient with his gentle kiss. She opened her mouth, drawing him in and pulling him close. She lifted her knees so she was surrounding his hips.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Please,” she whimpered.

He left her only long enough to grab something from his nightstand. She let out a grateful curse when she heard the crinkle of the foil wrapper. He edged himself up to her. The sensation of that small penetration sent a shiver straight up her insides.

“Ready?”

“Yes!”

“You sure?” he had the nerve to ask with a smile.

“Dammit, Gavin, yes!”

She grabbed his hips and tried to pull him forward, but he was determined to torture her, entering her by slow degrees, then withdrawing even slower. Finally, finally, he was seated all the way, his hips flush with hers.

He rested a sweaty brow on her forehead. “Jesus, Maureen. You feel amazing.”

She shifted her hips forward, trying to get a little more, and he growled, pulling back, then plunging into her. The feeling of delicious fullness had her arching her back and crying out. He pumped in and out, a relentless pace that she couldn't keep up with no matter how she planted her feet and tried to match him. She gave up and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Yes, hold on to me,” he whispered against her neck, and she did. She tightened her legs around his waist and clamped her arms across his back, digging into the shifting muscles she felt there. She held tight to him everywhere as the tension built inside her. She had never felt anything like this before, this desperate spiraling upward. She was so close to the point, but it remained just out of reach as he gripped her and pumped into her, her breasts shaking in her bra. She raked his back with her nails and bit his shoulder and he groaned, shifted, and that was it. She was up and over, lost in an explosion of sparks, and it was all she could do to hold on and cry out.

Just as she was beginning to come back down to earth, she felt him pick up his pace again—how could he possibly go any faster?—and his shoulders tensed, his back arched and he let out his own wild cry and collapsed onto her.

They lay there, entwined, connected, gasping for air. She couldn't help it; she let out a little helpless moan as an aftershock whispered through her core.

Gavin lifted himself up on shaky elbows and wiped her hair from her sweaty brow. His next breath came out on a little “whoa,” and she laughed and buried her face in his neck. She was embarrassed at the intimacy, of losing herself so completely in front of a virtual stranger, but then the feeling of exhausted satisfaction took over and she sighed, happily.

“Sorry, I'm crushing you,” he said after a minute.

“No,” she protested as he rolled over and left her empty. She heard his footsteps leave the room and he was back a minute later, condom disposed of.

He swatted her playfully on the leg. “Come on, move over.”

Well, she thought miserably, there was that dream over. Was he not even going to let her sleep in his bed? “Covers,” he said, pulling the comforter and sheet from underneath her. Wow, they hadn't even turned down the covers.

He crawled into bed. Maureen wasn't sure what the etiquette was in this situation, so she rolled over to one side and tried to make herself as unobtrusive as possible.

“Where are you going?” Gavin said, and pulled her next to him, snuggling her under his arm.

In about five seconds, they were both asleep.