Coming In From the Cold(6)

Her conscience gave her a half-hearted poke. Willow, you are making out with a stranger in his Jeep.

No, she told herself. She was making out with a sexy snow god during a blizzard. And yes, she was sure there was a difference.

Around them, the night was utterly silent. The wind had died. Willow  cocooned against him, under their makeshift blanket, while the Jeep  became covered with snow. The whole world fell away, except for the  slide of his lips on hers, the strokes of his tongue against her own,  and the sweep of his hands through her hair.

"Willow," he breathed when they eventually came up for air. "I love your name."

"Mmm," she said, enjoying the tickle of his hair against her forehead.  "I'm not sure what they were thinking when they gave it to me."

He gave her a tiny kiss. "You never asked?"

"Never got the chance," she breathed. "I haven't seen my parents since I  was four." But that was a potential mood killer right there, so she  raised her hands to his face, sweeping her thumbs gently across his  cheekbones, and then down onto his lips, until he shivered.

"Possibly," he said, kissing her again. "They were thinking, willows bend, but they don't break."

She smiled in the darkness. "You know, I've heard that one before."

He kissed her, laughing. They could just not keep their mouths off of  each other. "You aren't afraid to call me on my bullshit. Most people  don't do that."

"They don't?" In spite of the cold night, Willow felt hot all over. "They should."

He kissed her again, and she felt it everywhere. "Willow," he breathed.  "I would move this party to the back of my Jeep," he said, "but that  might be a bad idea."

"Why?" she panted, hating the sound desperation in her question.

"I'm not boyfriend material," he said. "I'm just passing through, and I wouldn't want you to do anything you'd regret."

He kissed her again, his mouth trailing from her lips to under her ear,  to her throat, which made her head spin. She reached both hands under  his cap, knitting her fingers into his curls.                       
       
           



       

His hands found the zipper of her jacket, drawing it partway down. But  then he stopped. "I don't mean to be blunt," he whispered. "But it would  be a one-night-only offer."

Ouch. "How pragmatic of you. Settling for me," she said.

"What?" he pulled away, his voice cautious.

"Since you can't ski the fresh powder, you might as well go with the  sex." She put her fingers on his lips so she could feel him smile.

"Christ," he laughed. "I really shouldn't have said that," he said, kissing her fingers, then taking them into his mouth.

"Here's a tip," Willow said. "If you ever decide to be somebody's boyfriend, don't mention your preference."

He leaned in, his lips finding her neck in the dark. "And in the  meantime?" he half kissed, half spoke. His tongue on her collarbone sent  a shiver of longing down into her core.

Willow was finding it hard to think. So far, her biggest mistakes in  life had been made by giving her heart away for keeps. Her last  relationship had been a disaster because she had expected way too much.  Dane's offer was, at least, very honest. And she wanted him. It was  crazy, but she did.

"In the meantime," she whispered, shocked at herself already, "we steam up your Jeep."

He chuckled, pushing the coat off her shoulders. Then he kissed her  again, his mouth smoldering hers with more heat and longing than she had  felt in a good long time. By the time she found the zipper on his  jacket, nobody was laughing.

Willow tried one more time to conjure some sort of remorse over her  actions, but found she could not. A long tangle of life's events had  conspired to lead her here, to this very moment. She didn't know why  that was. She only knew she didn't want to run away.

Breaking off their kiss, Dane gathered the sleeping bag off their laps  and tossed it into the back. She heard a rustle while he kicked off his  boots, and then pulled his seat as far forward as he could. "You go  first," he said.

With a shaky breath, Willow scooted between the seats and into the back.

She was straightening out a corner of the sleeping bag when he very  awkwardly climbed back to join her. "Where'd you go?" he whispered.  "Having second thoughts?"

"Not exactly," she said. "I just can't believe where the night ended up, that's all."

"No pressure," he said.

She slid nearer to him and stole his knit cap. This she tossed into the  front seat, and then she scooped her hands into his hair. He wrapped her  into a kiss, lifting the hem of her sweater. The sweep of his hands  across her bare back combined with his tongue in his mouth was an  exhilarating combination. He worked his thumbs up her torso, skimming  her bra. "I want these clothes gone," he said, his voice husky. "I swear  I won't let you freeze."

"You first," she whispered. Willow gripped his T-shirt in her hands and  raised it over his head. Once he shrugged it off, her hands explored his  chest. God, he was hard as nails under her hands. Athletes, wow. She  skimmed his pecs, ducking her head to lick his nipples, which were  hardened by the chill. Her hands ventured down his stomach, coming to  rest on his belt buckle.

He interrupted her to tug her sweater upward.

"I said ‘You first,'" she whispered, grasping his fly.

"Okayyy," he said. He was probably used to being in charge. But the  situation was too raw, too far outside her comfort zone to abandon all  control. He cooperated, stilling himself while she worked to unzip his  jeans.

When she'd managed the task, he pressed his hands down on the floor and  lifted his hips, giving her free reign to tug his pants off him. She  took his jeans and his briefs together, pulling them down around his  thighs.

"Hell, it really is cold," he chuckled.

She worked his jeans off of him entirely. "I'll let you keep your socks,  under the circumstances," she said. As she said this, she let her hands  begin to trace a path back up his legs, sweeping his shins, his knees.

She took her time exploring his massive quads. He was solid muscle, as  if carved from wood. She pressed his thighs apart with her hands and was  rewarded with a hum of expectation. Gingerly, she moved one hand  further back and onto his balls, which she stroked lightly, earning a  moan. Then, still not rewarding him with the touch he really wanted, she  climbed onto his legs, wrapping hers around behind him. Only then did  she reach down between their bodies and slip her hand around his cock.  He gasped, and she nearly did, too. Because Dane was a very big boy.

"Cold now?" she whispered.                       
       
           



       

He didn't answer. Instead he wrapped her in powerful arms and kissed her  like a starving man, crushing her lips to his. As his tongue plundered  her mouth, she stroked his shaft. When he groaned, she straddled him  even more tightly, hugging him with her legs. The feel of his cock  through the fabric of her jeans was tantalizing.

A one-night-only offer. His words echoed through her head. But what a  night it was turning out to be. Dane's touch was worshipful. Each time  she shivered with pleasure, he kissed her. And when she touched him-her  hands skimming his back, he sighed from deep in his chest. He was a  puzzle-confident with his hands and his kisses, yet seemingly starving  for affection.

This time, when he lifted her sweater over her head, she did not protest.





Four





Dane took a deep breath as he tossed her sweater aside. Don't rush, he  ordered himself. Usually he fucked like he skied-leaning in hard, diving  for the finish line. But this girl was something different-soft curves  and warm hands. Her touch lingered, and it made him want her hands on  his body for as long as possible.

He wished he could see her better, but the silent darkness held its own  pleasures. As the snow continued to bury the Jeep, there were no sounds  except for the sighs she made as his tongue stroked hers. Willow was  turning out to be surprisingly adventurous. Yet at the same time, she  was no pushover. He couldn't imagine a sexier combination.

He let his palms slide down her small shoulders and slim arms. His two  hands could nearly reach around her waist. When he skimmed back up,  fingering the silk of her bra, her breath hitched. And the sound of her,  and that her two hands were gently stroking his dick, took him back to  his days as a horny teenager. He was practically ready to burst.

Gently, he pushed her hands off of his cock. "Lie down for me." Cupping  her head in one hand, he tipped her onto her back. She adjusted herself  so that her head lay in one corner of their little makeshift room,  allowing her to stretch out. Diagonally, and with her knees bent, she  just fit.