Page 17 of Snow Bound (Odyssey #1)

A nna woke the next morning feeling rested, horny, and annoyed.

After Grant had dragged Henry outside for a long walk—a preemptive strike against midnight diarrhea, he explained—they’d settled into the living room to watch a movie.

She’d let him pick, and found herself watching an old Clint Eastwood western.

Since she found that about as interesting as paint drying, she’d worked on the cross stitch project she’d brought with her until she’d grown sleepy enough to doze.

She hadn’t heard the movie end or felt herself being gently lifted. But she’d stirred on the trip up the stairs.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she stared up at Grant . “ You’re carrying me.”

“I know. I’m taking you to bed.”

Blink. “ Oh . Did I fall asleep?”

His dimples winked at her when he smiled. “ Twenty minutes into the movie.”

She yawned and closed her eyes. “ Clint Eastwood is boring.”

He chuckled quietly. “ Noted .”

She fell silent then, snuggling a little closer. She buried her nose in the crook of his neck and inhaled, drawing in his scent.

“You okay?” he asked, the words little more than a rumble in his chest. Pressed against him as she was, she felt it in her own, and her nipples went tight.

She nodded, the movement making her nose rub against his neck, and more of that delicious scent wafted free. Smelling suddenly wasn’t enough, and she was too sleepy and befuddled to think about whether or not licking his neck was a good idea.

He jolted at the touch of her tongue, bobbling her in his arms. “ Jesus , Anna . Don’t do that when I’m carrying you up the stairs.”

She let out a sleepy giggle. “ Sorry ,” she said and did it again. He tasted a little salty, a little musky. Delicious . “ You taste good.”

His muttered curse made her laugh.

“Really good,” she decided, and took another lick. “ I really wanted to suck your cock last night,” she told him, then scraped her teeth carefully along his skin. The hard shudder that moved through him was very satisfying. “ I was disappointed when you wouldn’t let me.”

“Good to know.”

He sounded amused now, and she was starting to feel more awake. She wrapped one hand around the back of his neck for leverage and slid her tongue up his throat. “ I could do it now,” she suggested and took a gentle nip at his jaw. “ It’s no trouble.”

One second she was moving her mouth up towards his ear with the intent of nibbling there until he caved, the next she was falling. She shrieked, arms flailing, then let out a grunt when she landed hard on the bed.

She shoved her hair out of her face with a frown. “ Hey .”

“Hey, yourself,” he replied. The look on his face was a combination of amusement, determination, and good old-fashioned lust.

“This really works better if I’m sitting or kneeling,” she told him, and reached out to hook a hand in his belt buckle. “ But I can try it lying down.”

“Behave yourself,” he admonished, and peeled her fingers away from his belt.

“Why?” she asked with genuine confusion.

“Because I said so.” In a quick move that she was sure she would’ve anticipated better if she’d been more awake and less focused on his dick, he snagged her other hand and pinned them to the pillow on either side of her head.

Then he was lying on top of her, pinning her down, and kissing her brains out.

She opened her mouth, greedy, and was rewarded with the silken slide of his tongue over hers.

She kissed him back, curling her tongue around his and using her teeth to scrape at it when he pulled back.

He growled and nipped her lip, bringing a sharp spike of pain that did nothing to cool her sudden need.

It rose inside her, lust with a savage edge, and she bit him back.

He jerked back with a curse, his face hard.

His tongue flicked out to swipe at the tiny cut she’d given him, and his eyes flared when he tasted the sharp tang of blood.

Then he laughed, dark and low, and shifted to capture both of her hands in one of his.

His free hand buried itself in her hair and yanked, making her gasp as her head was dragged back to bare her throat.

“Feeling frisky, are we?” he murmured. He scraped his teeth along the vulnerable curve of her throat. The sound that slipped from her lips was half whimper, half moan, and all need. His low chuckle vibrated against her skin.

He slicked his tongue over and down, lapping at her like an ice cream cone, before setting his mouth on the curve where neck met shoulder.

His breath puffed out between flicks of his tongue, ragged and hot.

Her nipples peaked under her shirt, and her thighs wanted to fall apart to cradle his hips between them.

But he lay heavy on her and she couldn’t move, and the added sensation of being restrained was fuel to already leaping flames.

“The question,” he murmured, scraping his teeth along her throat again, “is how frisky?”

“Very. Super . The friskiest,” she croaked, and his laugh danced over her fevered skin.

“I can tell.” He nipped at her neck, sharp little bites that she knew would bruise. “ Your nipples are so hard it feels like they’re stabbing me, and these leggings do a terrible job of holding in all the wet heat your pussy is pumping out.”

The little trickle of embarrassment snaked its way through her senses, making her cheeks flush and her pussy dampen further. She tried to shift her thighs apart, but was ruthlessly held down.

“That’s right,” he whispered, and dragged his tongue up the center of her throat. “ You want to spread those legs for me. You want me to spread you wide and feast on that greedy, slutty pussy again, even though it’s still sore. Don’t you?”

“Holy shit, you’re so good at this,” she moaned and he laughed.

“It’s not hard,” he whispered. He licked at her mouth, pulling back when she tried to deepen the kiss. “ Since you’re a greedy slut.”

The sound that emerged from her mouth could only be called a whine. She didn’t care. “ Let me suck your cock.”

He bit her chin. “ I didn’t hear a please.”

She growled in frustration and he laughed. “ That’s not going to work, sugar. You want it, you’re going to have to ask for it.”

Oh, she hated to beg. But she wanted his cock in her mouth, his taste on her tongue, and if she had to beg to get it? Well , she’d figure out a way to get him back later.

“Please.” She rotated her pelvis against his for emphasis. She could feel him, hard behind the fly of his jeans. Saliva pooled in her mouth. “ Please .”

“Please what?”

“Please let me suck your cock,” she whispered.

“Mmm,” he murmured, pleased, and kissed her lightly, almost delicately. “ Takes you a while to work up to it, but when you finally beg, you do it so prettily. Yes , Anna . You can suck my cock.”

Thank God , she thought.

“Tomorrow.”

Her head snapped up. “ What ?”

“Tomorrow,” he repeated, and dropped a brief kiss on her mouth before rolling off her to stand next to the bed. He smiled as she continued to stare at him, mouth agape, in incredulous disbelief.

He flicked a finger down her nose. “ Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

It took her five seconds to find her voice. “ Are you freaking kidding me?”

His grin was wicked. “ Nope . You’re too sore, and we both need some time to think about everything we talked about tonight.”

“I don’t need to think ? —”

“I say you do, and I’m in charge. Aren’t I ?”

She gritted her teeth so hard she heard her jaw pop. “ I hate you.”

He winked, infuriating her. “ Want me to tuck you in?”

“I want you,” she said very slowly and very clearly, “to take your dimples and your rules and ? —”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolded, wagging his finger again. “ You wouldn’t want to get into trouble on day one.”

“I’m going to kill you in your sleep,” she decided.

His grin only widened. “ Good luck with that. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She could only stare, open-mouthed, as he turned and strode for the door.

“Oh, one more thing.” He paused at the threshold, one hand on the doorknob, to glance back. “ Make pancakes in the morning, would you? I like pancakes.”

Then he winked and left, closing the door behind him just as her shoe hit it.

After a good night’s sleep, Anna thought it was almost funny.

Almost.

Okay, so her pussy had still been sore. And yes, after their negotiations it was probably wise to take some time and think things through before jumping into a scene, or even sex.

But he still got her all worked up—on purpose—then left her high and dry. On purpose.

And then the son of a bitch had the nerve to tell her to make pancakes.

“I don’t know what he’s getting, but it’s not going to be fucking pancakes,” she muttered darkly and swung out of bed.

* * *

Grant nearly burst out laughing when he saw the bowl of oatmeal sitting on the counter.

He hadn’t slept well, so he’d risen early and gone for a long walk with Henry before Anna got up.

He’d lost track of time, the sun rising high in the sky before he’d noticed, and by the time they’d made their way back to the house and into the kitchen, she’d clearly already been and gone.

And had left him a bowl of cold, lumpy, unappetizing oatmeal for breakfast.

Fuck, she was sassy. Lippy , audacious, blunt, and yes, disrespectful. It made his dick hard.

He moved to the counter, reaching down to adjust the fit of his jeans as he went.

She’d laid out a place setting for him, the placemat a pretty blue that contrasted nicely with the bright orange bowl.

She’d set out a little dish of berries, a bowl of brown sugar, and a small pitcher of milk alongside a coffee mug that matched the bowl.

It looked like it was about to be photographed for a magazine.

Except the oatmeal was cold, the milk was warm, and the coffee—he took a sip to check his hunch, wincing at the bitter brew—yep, it was from yesterday’s pot.