Page 5 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

He’s never spoken to me like that before. I don’t know what I did, but whatever it was made him angry. With each brutal thrust, my fragile love for him begins to fracture. There's no passion or affection left in him, just animosity radiating from his rough hands and callous words.

I bite my lip until I taste blood as the headboard slams violently against the wall, but I feel nothing, numbed by shock and heartbreak, I just wait for him to finish.

When he finally does, it’s with a few final, jerky thrusts and a guttural shout, emptying himself deep inside of me. He instantly pulls out and moves away from me, and the gap between us feels cavernous.

His weight leaves the bed entirely, and I finally find the strength to slowly push myself up, my limbs shaking the entire time. My core is raw and aching as I shift to my ass, my vision blurring with tears that I try not to let fall.

“That was hot.” His voice is tired, edged with an emotion I can’t quite place.

I feel his presence shift closer, his finger hooking under my chin as he angles my face up towards him. “Sorry, Gracie. I must have gotten a little carried away. You alright?”

His concern warms the ice in my chest a little, and I nod.

“How about you go freshen up and then we can snuggle, yeah?”

I wince at the ache between my legs as I shift off the bed and move to the bathroom, wiping the wetness from my cheeks. I quickly do my business and leave the bathroom when I glance at myself in the massive mirror.

I stare at my reflection, taking in my disheveled appearance. My blonde, collarbone length wavy, blonde hair is tangled and knotted. My bright, large silver eyes rimmed and puffy. And my normally delicate, smooth features swollen slightly and flushed.

The memory of Jason's harsh words and rough handling still stings, but I push it down. It was just a misunderstanding. He would never intentionally hurt me.

I smooth my tangled hair and wipe the remnants of tears from my eyes before leaving the bathroom. Jason is already asleep when I crawl back into bed, so I curl up against his back, seeking comfort in his warmth.

He was just caught up in the moment, I tell myself. If I had told him to stop, he would have. He had no way of knowing I wasn't as into it as he was. It's not his fault.

I think back to all the sweet gestures and loving words he's given me over the years, my heart lightening with each thought. The Jason I know is still in there somewhere. This trip will help us find our way back to each other, I’m certain.

I snuggle closer to him when he shifts a little too far away and settle down for the night.

Tomorrow is a new day. I'll make him breakfast in bed to start things off right. We'll go for a romantic walk in the snow and reconnect. And everything will be okay.

With those hopeful thoughts, I finally drift off, the ache between my legs a distant memory. My faith in Jason and our love remains intact. This is just a bump in the road. We'll come back stronger than ever.

I'm sure of it.

Chapter Three

Shivering from the slight draft seeping under the blankets, I turn over to cuddle up to Jason. Wrapping my hands over his chest, I nuzzle my face in the space between his shoulder and neck and take a deep breath in. The scent of his cologne is cloying and irritates my nose, making me want to sneeze. It’s not one I’ve smelt on him before. It’s a mixture of musky and sweet undertones that make a woefully potent, and not at all pleasant, aroma.

Scrunching my nose, I pull back a little to look up at him, hoping he’s awake, but his face is slack with sleep. The arm by his side is equally as limp. Even awake, he’s never been a cuddler. Yet, a part of me always hoped that he would hold me close and give me that hallmark romance moment.

“Jason, baby?” Stroking his arm, I kiss him on the cheek, but he just swats me away with a scowl. Turning over, he grunts something and takes all the remaining blankets with him.

He’s just tired. That’s all. I’ll get everything ready for him to wake up to, and he’ll be as right as rain. Not wanting my spiraling thoughts to ruin the first day of our reunion getawaytogether, I slip out of bed with the intention of exploring and getting everything perfect for when he wakes up.

After getting dressed, I head over to towering glass windows that look out onto the expanse of wilderness at the side of the cabin, giving myself a minute to admire the surroundings we couldn’t see last night in the cover of darkness.

With the bedroom being part of the A-framed portion of the house, the windows conform to the shape of the roof and extend all the way up and across the outside wall. With only a single strip of wood separating the frames, we have an unobstructed view of the snow flurries painting the landscape with their gentle touch.

The door to the balcony sits unobtrusively off to the side and could easily be mistaken for another window pane. It’s obvious from our view that we won’t be going out there any time soon. Seamlessly blending in with its surroundings, the balcony is covered in at least a foot of snow, not an inch of its wooden surface visible, making the whole scene look even more magical.

My breath fogs up the glass as the heat from the electric fireplace pounds at my back. Reaching out to the frost-covered window, my fingertips jolt and my mouth tips up in glee. The contrast between hot and cold, along with the snowy landscape, settles something deep inside me.

All we’re missing is the scent of gingerbread, hot chocolate, and mulled wine to make it the perfect Christmas getaway.

I stretch in my cute little cookie sleep set that I got especially for this trip, before grabbing the matching fluffy robe and slippers and throwing them on. Even though my bladder is screaming at me, and the toothbrush in the bathroom is calling my name, the rest of the cabin shouts louder.

Standing at the top of the stairs, my mouth drops at the sight of the two-story living space in the light of day. With a cozy little seating nook over to my right, full of blankets and fluffy cushionssituated around an open stone fire, you can peer through the spindles and over into the open space living area and kitchen downstairs. To my left, there’s a mini bar area with six barstools equally spaced around it. All covered in white fur, they look far comfier than a bar stool ever should.

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