Page 26

I wake up wrapped in a cocoon of delicious warmth, with a bone-deep feeling of peace and comfort.

I'm not sure what's causing it until I open my eyes and see that I'm basically lying on top of Dylan, trying to snuggle the life out of him.

My face is nuzzled into his neck, my arms are wrapped around him, and my leg is slung over his hip in a way that suggests that we've done this many times before.

The room is cloaked in darkness, with heavy curtains pulled across the windows, just a low light peeking through the opened bedroom door.

When I start to move, he makes a small sound and pulls me closer. Is he even awake? I kiss the underside of his chin because I can't resist, and he makes a soft sound of satisfaction, and puts his other arm around me, pulling me completely on top of him. He's definitely awake.

First there is a small rush of panic–am I actually doing this?

Nobody's ever touched me like this before, during and after sex, paid this much attention, never traced patterns on my skin or brushed my hair with their fingers.

My body hovers over him, looking down into his eyes as he wraps his legs around me and I know I am exactly where I need to be.

"Mornin'" His deep morning voice is even raspier than usual. "You feel okay?" He holds my head, both of his palms pressing my cheeks and I smile.

"After those orgasms last night? Hmm... I think so."

"That damn young dick." His big palms slide up and down my spine.

"Well good thing that you like cum." I joke, and he snorts at that, then squeezes my asscheeks in that possessive, Dylan way, like he's thinking about being inside again, like it's his only job.

"I like you."

I shiver at his admission. I knew it was not just the sex that he liked or certain kinks. It's the fact that the sex is this good because there's more to it. Because it's us.

I gulp, my swelling heart suddenly cutting off my oxygen. "I like you too."

"And I like everything we did last night." He says, and I think I blush because I'm positive he's talking about my unexplainable neediness, how it had been cathartic, healing.

"Thank you," for understanding, for accepting, for not judging. I need him to know that. "I've never done that before. Hope it's not weird."

"Nope. Not weird," he mumbles into my hair. "You did so well."

His praise is making me blush even more and I extricate myself from his grip, falling on my side and burying my head in the pillow. But he doesn't let me escape, he rolls me on my back. "That blush of yours..." he smiles and tries to kiss me but I duck.

"No! Go away, I'm disgusting. I need to brush my teeth." He only laughs at that and uses his strength to overpower me, grasping my wrists in his hand over my head and pinning me down.

"Dylan, no." I almost squeal when he comes closer. "No!"

I start laughing, desperately shaking my head from left to right.

He misses my mouth but ends up kissing my ear, and we both laugh even harder.

We are still naked and my body reacts to this mountain of a man rubbing and grinding on top of me.

Everywhere. But this is not about sex, I'm not even thinking of going there, all I want is to keep listening to his laugh.

Seeing crinkles around his eyes when he does it loudly like now. Having his beard tickling my neck.

"We are kind of filthy. Especially you," he says so close to my ear that I shiver. "Let's brush our teeth and shower quickly."

I only now seem to remember all the dirty things we did, how much cum he filled me with, mine and his, how stretched I was and how fucking addictive it all was, how indulgent.

And how I didn't want it to end. I remember the size of him inside of me, how my body gave way like it was born for it, welcoming him in like that was always where he was meant to be.

I relish in the fact that the aches I am feeling right now will be a pleasant reminder of last night throughout the day.

"Yeah... Let's hurry up," my voice is breathy all of a sudden.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, we just shower this time." He nipps my earlobe with his teeth.

"Yes, Sir."

His chuckle rumbles from deep in his chest. "You're lucky I like you because your humor is not at all that good.

" He says that but I don't believe him. I think he secretly thinks I'm hilarious, but he would never admit that.

That's fine, he doesn't have to say it, his constant smiles kind of give him away. "Wanna eat breakfast?" He adds.

"I don't think we have time, we'll be late for work."

"We have an hour. Coffee first?"

"Coffee sounds great."

He gets up from me, then helps me stand up and with smiles on our faces we walk into the bathroom. The shower is quick without funny business, but brushing teeth takes longer because as soon as we rinse the toothpaste out Dylan attacks my mouth in a long, minty kiss.

It's still dark, when we walk into the kitchen area, with towels around our waists.

Dylan starts the coffee machine and I go to pick up our clothes from the floor wherever we dropped them on our way to his bed.

I realize that I don't have a change of clothes, I can still wear what I had on yesterday but my boxers are not an option.

"Can I borrow your clean underwear?" I ask him.

He looks at me, his lips lift into a satisfied, wicked smirk and opens his mouth to answer but as soon as he sees something behind me his mouth closes shut comically.

"Shit. I think we're snowed in."

"What?"

He points to the window behind. I turn around, and.

... Oh my god. The small chilled windows give out onto the wide open whiteness, with snow blowing in a horizontal blur.

With the still morning shadows it seemed the snow is part of the thickening darkness all around Dylan's house.

I'd never even been able to imagine this much snow before.

How could people live someplace that so obviously didn't want them?

My nerves suddenly return. I had a close-to-perfect night with Dylan, that continued into an equally amazing morning, but this?

"What now?"

"Fuck, I didn't even see my phone since last night." He goes through his messages silently, while I go to the front door. "Don't do that," Dylan warns me. When I look out the other window I see that the snow came up to the top of the truck's wheels.

"How are we gonna get out of here?"

"We can't. Not now."

"I guess I'm getting the full Alaskan experience."

"During most winters, the snow on the roof touches the ground level and I had to dig down five feet to open the door. It's not as bad now. And they will be clearing the roads but it might take a while."

He glances at me, and seeing my shocked face his voice turns tentative. "I've got a snowmachine."

"What is that?"

"I guess you would call it snowmobile. We use it for transportation when the weather is severe like this. I'll have to shovel my way to the shed though."

I stare at him, strange confusion taking hold of me. This place is where I actually live now, this is my life.

"Well the construction site is closed for a few days anyway, Janet just emailed me." He says while typing away on his phone. Some of my distress must have shown on my face because he drops the phone on the counter and walks around it, towards where I'm standing.

"I can get you out of here on a snowmachine. It just might take a while. I was thinking..." He clears his throat, like he's unsure of his next words. "Maybe... you can stay?"

My mouth opens and closes, my words stuck. "You mean to stay here? For how long?" My voice still comes out unsure. The longer I stayed the deeper I got into unfamiliar waters and I simply am not sure I know how to swim in this sea of emotions.

"Until they clear the roads. It could be a few days."

"So what are we going to do stuck here for days?"

"Well, I have a few ideas." He suddenly teases with eyes that spark mischievously. Damn, that face of his. I swallow.

"Do you?"

"Yep."

"Will you share them with me?"

"Nope."

Fuck. He's clueless about how fucking sexy he is when he's teasing and flirting like this.

"Hey." He says softly now, "All jokes aside if you're not comfortable staying with me..."

"No. What do you mean? Of course I'm comfortable."

"Maybe we should talk about what we're doing here beforehand. Because of what happened yesterday. I can't forgive myself for blowing up at you like that."

He offers a small smile before continuing. "But I can't just have sex with you on demand and go back to my life like nothing happened. I'm just wired differently. I care."

Swallowing hard, I try to speak. "I know you do. That's why I think you don't deserve to be with someone like me."

I see the way my words hit him unexpectedly, the shift in his expression, the straightening of his spine.

He walks toward me, and I feel myself retreating at his imposing proximity, a complete contradiction to the closeness I always want to feel when he's near.

He lifts my chin and looks at me. "Let me decide who and what I deserve, yeah? "

"It's so fucking hard being in my head sometimes, Dylan. And are you sure you want to spend time with all that fucking mess?"

"You haven't been in my head, babe. In case you didn't notice I live in the middle of nowhere and let nobody come close to me.

I don't know how to do anything but exist as this miserable and bitter and lonely man.

You've been through a lot, and I'm not trying to compare our issues, at all, but all I'm saying is, you don't have to fight this anymore.

Because I'm done fighting it. And you don't have to run from me when you feel like something is too much.

We can just figure things out together."

How do I explain to him that I'm scared? Terrified. What if I like him even more, and he leaves me because of something I did, of the things from the past that would come back and haunt me. What if I fuck this up. How will I survive if he leaves me too? "It's not that simple."

"Nothing ever is. I have to at least try to be realistic.

I know how I feel and I will gratefully accept whatever you are willing to give me.

We take it day by day but we don't run from each other.

" Every time we're together he looks at me with an unspoken confidence.

And now there is certainty in his words that tells me he's all in.

He looks at me like he knows something about me that I don't. And whatever it is it is the thing that makes him want to do this.

And I want to stay. I'm not used to wanting anything for myself.

I usually set my expectations very low, because I'm used to being disappointed.

It's easier to be let down when your hopes aren't all that high to begin with.

But Dylan is above any expectation I ever had for myself.

He's actually too good for anyone, but now that I've found him, there isn't a thing I won't do to keep him.

When the words don't come, I grab him by his biceps and drag him to me, melding his lips to mine. He doesn't hesitate to kiss me back, his hands on my neck, keeping us in place. The kiss deepens.

Every kiss with Dylan peels away another layer of the protection I try to keep around myself.

It's always raw and vulnerable, and it's getting harder to keep my old walls up and my new feelings hidden.

He turns the most mundane things into memories that will stay with me until the day I die.

With the simplest of words, he is changing me.

Digging so deep beneath the surface, I don't know any other way to show him just how much I love whatever it is we're starting but to be touching him. All the time, in any way I can.

"Maybe I can help you with building your fireplace?" I lean my forehead against Dylan's, my hands coming up to slide along his chest.

"You don't have to do that." He whispers softly. His eyes still hadn't lost their concern from earlier.

"I know I don't have to, and I know I'm not the best but I learned a thing or two about building stuff now. Maybe I can hold your hammer."

Dylan laughs so loud. My smile is wide. Stupidly wide. God, I wanna make him smile like this forever.

"Fine," he continues to hold me close, hard planes of his bare chest and pebbled nipples bumping lightly against mine, "But later. Coffee and food first."

"Uh...and clothes?" I murmur before kissing him. He presses several soft, chaste kisses to my lips, before licking the bottom one slowly. He answers with a tug at my towel.