Page 22 of Snow Bound (Odyssey #1)

W hen she could think again, breathe again, she opened her eyes. Grant was lying next to her, his fingers stroking over her face, concern in the blue eyes focused on hers. He smiled. “ Hi , there.”

“Hi,” she whispered.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Softly , sweetly. She let out a small sigh of contentment.

“So.” His hand smoothed over her hair. “ Do you still hate me?”

She laughed, then winced when her breasts jiggled with the motion. She reached up to grab them and winced again. “ Ow . Yes .”

His eyes were bright and amused as he dropped a soft kiss on each breast above her hands. “ Poor baby.”

“Asshole,” she complained.

“Guilty.”

She wanted to frown at him, but she was just too relaxed. “ When my bones grow back, I’m going to kick your ass,” she informed him.

“I’ll look forward to it.” He propped his head on his hand and grinned at her.

She sighed, then lifted her hands off her breasts to peer at them with a frown. “ When did you untie me?”

“A couple of minutes ago. You weren’t out long.”

Her mouth dropped open. “ You fucked me unconscious?”

“You didn’t pass out,” he said, chuckling. “ You just went away for a little while.”

“Hmmm.” She let her fingers float up to toy with the ends of his hair. “ That sounds like passed out to me.”

“You hit subspace pretty hard.”

She yawned. “ If you say so. My experience is somewhat limited.”

“But expanding every day.” He lifted his hands to her shoulders, rubbing firmly at muscles stressed too long, and she groaned. “ Too sore?”

“Not too.” His hands felt so good she could’ve stayed there all day, and her entire body was still pleasantly buzzed from all the endorphins swimming through her bloodstream.

She really loved endorphins.

“Okay, time to sit up.”

“Why?” she murmured and tried to burrow in closer. “ I’m comfortable here.”

He nudged her back. “ You need some water. Come on, see if you can extend that good girl streak and do as you’re told.”

She grumbled but obeyed, pushing to a seated position and taking the bottle of water he held out.

He took the bottle when she’d finished and set it on the nightstand. “ Better ?”

She nodded. “ Better .” She settled back against the pillows—he must have retrieved them from the floor—and sighed. “ I know it’s the middle of the day, and I’m not really sleepy. But I don’t want to move.”

“How about a movie, then I’ll hunt up some lunch?”

“Wouldn’t I have to move for that?”

“Minimally,” he replied, climbing out of bed to reach for his pants.

Anna watched with dreamy interest. She’d seen him naked, of course, a couple of times now. But it didn’t get old.

He glanced back, jeans halfway over his ass and a smile in his eyes. “ You’re staring.”

“You have a really pretty penis,” she murmured, then blinked. “ Oops . Did I say that out loud?”

He laughed and hitched up his jeans, buttoned all but the top button. “ You did.”

“Well, it’s true.” She eyed the crotch of his jeans, hiding the pretty. The thick pretty, she recalled. “ But I might want to make my yes on anal sex a maybe . What are you doing?”

He scooped her up. “ You said you didn’t want to move, so I’m moving you.”

She linked her arms around his neck, pleasure a warm glow in her chest. “ Oh . Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She eyed him curiously as they left the bedroom. “ Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How come you aren’t making me call you something?”

One eyebrow quirked up. “ Something ?”

“You know. Sir , or Master , something like that.”

He started down the stairs. “ You did call me Sir . Several times, if I recall correctly.”

She frowned. “ In the heat of the moment, yeah. But you didn’t make it a rule.”

“No, I didn’t.” He descended the last stair, stepped over a snoring Henry , and crossed to the couch. “ Did you want me to?”

“No.” She didn’t think. “ But I kind of expected you to.”

He settled her on the cushion. “ I like when you call me Sir . I like it best when it’s in the heat of the moment.”

She didn’t know what to make of that. “ Oh .”

He picked up the blanket he’d discarded earlier and spread it over her lap. “ How about some popcorn?”

“Sure.” She started to stand.

He laid a hand on her shoulder. “ I’ll make it.”

Confused, she frowned. “ I thought I was in charge of cooking.”

“You are, but I’m in charge of aftercare.” He flicked a finger down her nose. “ What would you like to drink?”

“Um. Water’s good, I guess.”

“Back in a minute. Here .” He handed her the remote. “ Pick a movie.”

“Okay,” she said faintly, and watched him go.

She turned the remote over in her hands.

Aftercare wasn’t new to her—the scenes she’d done at the club had always included it in one form or another, though it had always felt rather perfunctory.

Wrap her in a blanket, give her a drink of water and maybe a piece of chocolate, and hang out for ten or fifteen minutes until she’d recovered enough for her top to be sure she was all right.

It had been fine, but this felt…different.

It felt nice.

Faint popping sounds emerged from the kitchen, rousing Henry from his nap. He gave a long stretch, a big yawn, then lumbered off to investigate while she flipped through the movie options and struggled to understand why she felt so uneasy.

She just wasn’t used to being taken care of, probably because she’d been taking care of herself for a long time. She paid her own bills, fixed her own food, and handled her own orgasms. It was part of why giving up control during sex and play felt so freeing—and at the same time, scary as hell.

She curled her legs under her and pulled the blanket up to her chin. The scary didn’t bother her, not much anyway. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, would respect her boundaries and safeword. But she didn’t know what to do with this soft, squishy feeling that had exploded inside her all of a sudden.

She was frowning over it when footsteps sounded on the hardwood—accompanied by the clicking of canine toenails—and she looked up with a smile that was only a little forced. “ Jeez . How hungry are you?”

He set the loaded tray on the coffee table with a clatter. “ Pretty hungry. I worked hard this morning, and all I had for breakfast was three bites of shitty oatmeal.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “ You said you ate it.”

“I lied.” His gaze skimmed over her. “ Cold ?”

She wasn’t, but nodded. “ A little.”

“Don’t feed the dog any popcorn,” he instructed and went to stoke the fire.

She looked at Henry’s woeful, pitiful face. “ How come?”

“Because his popcorn farts are worse than his cheese farts.”

Having experienced the cheese farts after the great pizza theft last night, Anna grimaced. “ Gross .”

Grant came back, sidestepped the begging Henry , and settled next to her. “ What movie did you pick?”

Since she’d completely forgotten her assignment, she just cued up the one she’d started last night before their talk. “ The Fall Guy .”

“Fun.” He plucked her glass of water off the tray, handed it to her, then began to unload the rest of the food.

She watched him set out the food, a little amazed at how much he’d brought out. “ There’s no way we’re going to eat all of this.”

“Then it’ll be there when we get hungry again.” He glanced at her. “ Do you want something else?”

She eyed the spread—fruit, cheese, bread, some of Kimberly’s fancy cured meat, a dish of mixed nuts and a bowl of popcorn big enough to swim in, glistening with butter and salt. “ Is there anything else?”

“Not unless you make it.” He sat back, brow slightly furrowed. “ Is something wrong, Anna ?”

“No.”

He waited, patient as Job .

She squirmed, wishing she hadn’t said anything. “ This feels weird.”

“What does?”

“This.” She waved a hand at the food and bumped Henry in the nose. “ Oh , damn. I’m sorry, puppy.”

“This?” Grant prompted.

Anna kept stroking the dog—it steadied her. “ You waiting on me, I guess. You don’t have to.”

“No, I don’t. But why shouldn’t I ?”

She couldn’t think of a thing to say to that, so she drank her water.

“Anna.”

He was watching her with a gentle amusement that made her stomach quiver. “ What ?”

“I like aftercare. It’s one of my favorite parts of being a Dom .”

She blinked. “ It is?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like playing.” His eyes glimmered with remembered heat, and her heart thumped hard in response. “ A lot. But aftercare is important, and I consider it a privilege to give it.”

“Oh.” She turned the glass in her hands, feeling foolish. “ Okay . Sorry .”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said easily. “ But I have a question.”

She braced herself. “ What ?”

“Are you going to hog that blanket?”

The easy smile coaxed one out of her, and she relaxed her grip on the blanket. “ No . But I am going to hog the popcorn.”

“Get some protein, too,” he said, draping an arm around her to tug her into his side.

“Yes, Sir ,” she said, rolling her eyes for form, and reached for the popcorn.

As they settled in to watch the movie, Anna determinedly banished her lingering unease.

It was just for two weeks, she reminded herself as they settled in to watch the movie.

If he wanted to pamper her after fucking her, who was she to say no?

And it was just sex. Really good sex, she amended, but just sex nonetheless—it wasn’t like they were in love, or even planning to see each other when they got back to their real lives.

When the two weeks were over, they’d shake hands—metaphorically speaking—go their separate ways, and that would be that.

That would be that.

* * *

They spent the afternoon that way. Watching movies, talking, laughing, and eating. He’d allowed her to have a glass of wine with dinner, which he once again insisted on making. His specialty—grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.

It had been surprisingly delicious.

She fell asleep during another Clint Eastwood movie, this one co-starring a monkey of all things, and the next thing she knew he was carrying her up the stairs again. “ Movie’s over?” she murmured, snuggling into his neck.

“Yep. Time for bed.” He set her on her feet inside the bathroom and gave her a light pat on her bottom. “ Take care of business, sugar.”

She sent him a sleepy smile, too content to be embarrassed. “’ Kay .”

She used the facilities, so sleepy she considered not brushing her teeth, but the prospect of morning breath had her going through the routine. She was swaying on her feet when she left the bathroom, and he huffed out a laugh.

“Into bed with you,” he ordered and helped her slide between the sheets. “ You want me to leave you alone tonight, or do you want me to stay?”

Oh . She stared at him, nonplussed. That sounded nice, but also vaguely dangerous, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

“Is it a difficult question?” he prompted.

It’s just sleeping, she told herself. “ Do you hog the bed?”

“No.”

“Snore?”

“No, brat.” He tapped her nose. “ Stay or go?”

She was too tired to be worried. “ Stay .”

He dropped a kiss on her mouth. “ Be right back.”

Her eyes drifted closed as he moved away from the bed. She heard him moving around in the bathroom, water running, the toilet flushing, more water running, then the click when he turned out the light.

He slid in behind her, turning her so her back was to his chest, her butt tucked into his hips. She let out a blissful sigh and let herself go limp.

“Goodnight, Anna .”

“Night,” she murmured and was out like a light.