Snowed In
Authors: Anna Daye
Sneak Peek of Alison's Awakening
SNOWED IN
Anna Daye
BLURB
Carrie Drummond is excited to spend a fun, relaxing weekend at a mountain cabin with her friends—a last hurrah before they all graduate college in a few months. But when the power goes out and the only other person to make it through the snowstorm is the one man in the world she hates, she thinks the weekend is ruined.
But her so-called enemy has other plans.
Bryan Grant always ends up with his foot in his mouth around Carrie, and he’s determined not to let their night alone go to waste. But will the uptight, lawyer-in-training be able to convince the paint-stained artist to give him a shot?
*Snowed In is a contemporary erotic romance short story. It is not intended for younger readers due to mature content. *
5,400 words.
**For adults only. This is an erotic romance that contains material that is not suitable for children.**
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Anna Daye. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
Visit the author’s website at
www.annadaye.com
Edited by QuickQuill Editing
Cover design by DigiNamba Design
First Edition July 2013
For my readers.
SNOWED IN
Carrie Drummond didn’t freak until the lights went out. But when a big gust of wind hit and the lamps and television flickered off, leaving her alone in the dark, unfamiliar cabin, panic hit. Only the flash of car lights coming up the snow-filled driveway kept her mind from envisioning a full-fledged horror film scenario.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The car had to be Stacy and David. Stacy had said they were on their way not long after Carrie left her apartment.
Brutal snow had greeted her once she had hit the mountain roads, and the normal hour-long drive from town to Stacy’s father’s cabin had taken her over two hours. But it would so be worth it tomorrow when they hit the ski slopes.
After a hellish week of finals, they’d earned their fun weekend of skiing. Besides, Carrie worried that with only one more semester left of school, things were going to change soon.
Classes were basically finished, and although they hadn’t talked about it much, it was clear that things would soon be different between Carrie and Stacy. Carrie was going to grad school across the state. Stacy had a few job offers she was considering, and David had the eyes of a man bent on proposing. Carrie was ninety-nine percent sure that Stacy was going to say yes.
Everything was going to change whether they were ready for it or not.
The headlights turned off and she started toward the front door to wave them in, trying to remember where the furniture was as she edged her way through the dark house. The moon was full—or near enough—so when she opened the door to call out to them, she could clearly see the SUV in the driveway behind her Subaru.
Crap.
Stacy hadn’t mentioned inviting him, but Carrie recognized the dark silver shade of Bryan Grant’s Toyota, though the vehicle looked almost black in the moonlight. And Stacy’s car was nowhere to be seen.
Double crap.
The man himself slammed the car door and walked through the building snow toward the front door where she stood. Even in the moonlight, she could appreciate the wide stretch of his shoulders and the way his dark hair waved around his face. The chiseled line of his jaw and his striking blue eyes were hidden by the night, but she could see them clearly in her mind’s eye. He was a hottie, all right.
Too bad he was also a world-class jerk.
"Hey," he said, apparently seeing her form in the doorway. "No power or are you already setting the mood?"
"Har-har." She shot another nervous glance behind him. "Have you heard from Stacy?"
"David called. Looks like they're not going to make it. Snow made the roads too shitty for Stacy's car."
Why hadn't Stacy called her?
As if he'd read her mind, he added, "Stacy said your phone was going straight to voicemail. Probably not the best reception up here. Especially not with this blizzard moving through."
He stomped on the steps, leaving a small pile of snow around his snow boots.
"Shouldn't we head out, then?"
"And risk these roads?" He let out a low laugh, and something in her stomach clenched. "Go drive into a ravine if you like, I'm going to stay here where it's warm."
He moved past her into the cabin, his lower chest brushed her breasts and her nipples hardened in response. Anger flitted through her and she slammed the door behind them just a little too hard. He really wouldn't give a crap if she tried to drive back to town.
They'd never gotten along, but he was David's best friend so they'd been forced to spend a lot of time together in the last couple of years. Annoyingly, he’d seemed to show up just about everywhere she had the last six months. Always there with his arrogant attitude and a little sneer on his lips. He was everything she couldn't stand in a man. A conceited jerk fresh out of law school and no doubt headed for some super impressive job handling legal issues for corporations screwing people over.
Not to mention that he never let a chance to give her a hard time go by. He took any and all opportunities. Poking fun at her for majoring in art. Tugging at her paint-stained clothes and asking when she was going to dress like a grown up. Teasing her about her hair and her ideals…ugh. She couldn’t think of a single person she’d rather not be stuck with in a snowstorm.
“Guess we might as well get comfortable. I’ll see if there are some candles in the kitchen.”
He was gone before she could reply, moving quickly through the house as if he could see in the dark. But then, she could see better now, too. Her eyes had adjusted somewhat, and she could make out large shapes in the dark, odd-looking, highlighted by the thin rays of light coming through the windows.
The roll and bump of drawers opening and closing in the kitchen sounded, and before long, Bryan reappeared.
“Not sure where the candles are. If the lights don’t come back on in a few, I’ll see if I can get reception to call the lovebirds to ask where they keep them.” He waved a glass toward her and she took it.
“Wine. Figured we might as well get comfortable. Who knows, maybe a few drinks and you won’t despise me quite so much.”
She choked on the sip she’d ventured, then wiped at her jaw, happy he couldn’t see her spitting on herself in the dark.
“Don’t bother arguing. I told David that their little scheme would never work, but Stacy isn’t one to let go when she has a plan.”
“What plan? What are you talking about?” she managed, after another drink of wine to clear her throat.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. All the time the four of us have been spending together the last few months. And now the weekend away to the romantic cabin.”
“They’re trying to set us up.” It all suddenly made sense, and she burned with embarrassment that she hadn’t picked up on it already, like Bryan had.
“Yep,” he said, but to his credit he didn’t add that she was slow for not realizing sooner.
“But that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” he asked, but she could hear the smile in his voice.
“We’re like oil and water. If oil and water annoyed the crap out of each other in addition to not mixing well.” She drank down the rest of her wine and set the glass on the coffee table between them. “Sorry, but come on.”
“Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.”
Something inside of her twinged at his words. It wasn’t that she expected Bryan to like her—they annoyed each other far too much for that—but her pride didn’t care to have it spoken aloud. And he was a very attractive man, well-built with a chiseled jaw and the sharp features of an old movie star. If he’d keep his mouth shut for five minutes he’d make good eye candy.
And if she was totally honest, she’d thought about him far too often. Not about being with him in any real way, but there was something about the cruel set to his mouth, the way his eyes watched her sometimes, that made her wonder what it
would
be like with him. Different, she was sure, than it had been with the other men—boys, really—that she’d dated in school.
“That’s not to say I haven’t fantasized about you.”
Her throat went dry when he voiced her thoughts as if he’d plucked them right out of her skull, and she wished she hadn’t drank all of her wine. She swallowed hard, but her voice still came out weak, hesitant.
“You have?”
“Oh yes.” His glass chinked as he set it on the coffee table. And even in the darkness she could feel his eyes on her. Watching. Waiting for her reaction.
Images ran through her mind. Bryan’s cruel grin replaced a look of ecstasy when she touched him. His body covering hers while he thrust into her heat. Bryan’s eyes, locking on hers as he whispered pretty words…or dirty ones.
It was a terrible idea to delve into any fantasies he’d had that she happened to star in. Terrible. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“What have you fantasized about?”
“Do you really want to know?” His voice deepened, and she squirmed in her seat.
“Yes.”
“I’ve thought about how it would feel to have your wet lips wrapped around my dick while I fuck that smart mouth of yours.”
She gasped, but he didn’t pause for her reaction.
“I think about grabbing you by your hair and bending you over the nearest table when you start in on one of your corporate overlord rants. Pushing down your tight, paint-covered jeans and finding your panties soaking wet for me. I wonder if your pussy is as tight as I imagine?” A soft chuckle escaped him. “I’ll bet coming all over my cock would shut you up for a while.”
Fingers digging into the edge of the couch, she found herself leaning toward him. A pool of want—need—built inside of her, and her breathing was thready. His words should have offended her. They weren’t words of love or sweetness and light. The words were bad and dirty and somehow hot enough to bring her to the edge of orgasm.
She should have been worried that something was wrong with her, but she couldn’t think past the images he’d planted even more firmly in her head.
“What do you think of that, Carrie?” He didn’t move a muscle, still sitting as if relaxed on the loveseat across the coffee table from where she sat on the couch. But his voice was tight. The man wasn’t the cool cucumber he wanted her to think he was.
“I think that you’re a rough-talking asshole.”
“I think you want to be fucked by a rough-talking asshole.”
She gasped again, and couldn’t say for sure if it was entirely because of shock, or if part of her, a larger part than she would ever admit, found the way he talked to her sexy.
“Is this turning you on?”
“No!” she lied.
With a quick motion, he got up from the loveseat and made his way to the couch, sitting close enough that his knee brushed hers.
Already tense, her muscles tightened further.
“Let’s be real here, Carrie.” He reached up and slid her hair behind her shoulder, his hand brushing her neck and sending a shiver through her body. “We don’t get along. We have entirely different views of the world. That’s probably not going to change. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t attracted to one another.”
She snorted. “You’re right on that—the first part anyway.”
“You’re not attracted to me?” He leaned in and she could feel his breath move against her ear. The smell of wine and the tiniest bit of cologne touched her nose, and she struggled not to take a deep breath, inhale his scent.
“I think you’re lying,” he murmured.
Yeah, she was lying, but lying was her last defense. This was such a terrible idea. Sure, it could be amazing, but how likely was that—beyond the sex? There would be fallout. Consequences. God, he smelled good.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Despite her words, she took a deep breath, taking in his scent. She hadn’t thought it possible to get even more turned on, but his smell pulled at something in her. Something basic and needful and hungry.
Bryan seemed undeterred by her words. He slid the back of his fingers down her upper arm, and the touch sent a current straight through to her sex.
“Let me lay it all out here for you, Carrie. I don’t know why—it makes no logical sense—but I find you goddamned fascinating for some reason. I can’t seem to get you out of my head.”
