Page 14 of Snow One Like You

The howling wind and rattling of the house dragged me out of a restless sleep. I tapped my phone on the nightstand, and it lit up, telling me it was two in the morning.

Lying back down, I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but a loud bang shook the walls, and I jackknifed up in bed. I tossed back the covers and jumped off the mattress. I was a second away from opening my door when I remembered I didn’t have any clothes on. Cursing, I sprinted to the dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers before yanking them on.

Another deafening crash sounded from the side of the house, and I ran toward it.

“What is that?” Cammie asked as she burst out of her bedroom.

I glanced back at her as I answered, “I don’t know, but?—”

Motherfucker.

My eyes roamed over Cammie’s naked body, drinking in the sight of her heavy breasts, coral nipples, flat stomach, and long, toned legs before locking on her bare pussy.

Son of a bitch.

Nothing hid her sweet, plump lips from my view, and my mouth watered at the thought of burying my head between her legs and tasting her until she screamed in ecstasy.

“Cammie,” I croaked. “Go back to your room.”

“What? No, we need to figure out?—”

“Cammie!” I barked. “Baby, you need to go put on some fucking clothes before I lose my damn mind.”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her eyes went wide and round as she glanced down at herself. Then she squeaked, “Oops!” and turned, giving me a perfect view of her juicy ass as she ran into her room.

I blinked a few times, trying to focus on anything but my hard, aching cock and the knowledge that only a flimsy door separated Cammie and me.

Cammie’s door opened, but before she stepped out, another thump broke through the whistling sounds of the wind, though this one wasn’t as booming as the last two had been. A second later, we were shrouded in darkness.

“Shit,” I grunted. We’d lost power shortly after I’d run off to my room like a fucking coward. The darkness meant something had happened to the generator.

“The generator,” she groaned. “Dammit!”

“I’m going to check it out,” I told her, fumbling my way toward the front door to get my coat off the hook.

“Are you mad?” she snapped.

“At this temperature, you’ll have maybe two or three minutes—tops—before you develop frostbite. You’ll take longer than that just to find the damn generator.”

She was right. When the sun went down, the temperature outside had dropped to over forty below and with the wind chill, it was even colder.

“It’s going to get fucking cold in here,” I muttered.

“Relax,” she said, her tone calm. “I’ve been dealing with this stuff my entire life. I’ve got this handled.”

I chuckled. “I grew up four hours from here, baby. This isn’t new to me either.”

“Oh. Well, good, then. I’m going to get the emergency kit out of the closet so we have flashlights.”

“I’m going to bring in the firewood from the porch so we don’t have to keep going out in the cold, then I’ll build one in here,” I said, putting on a hat and gloves.

Cammie agreed, then I heard her footsteps fade as she searched her way to the storage closet in the kitchen.

I waited for her to pass me an emergency lantern, then hung it on the door so I could see the stack of wood. I dropped the few loads right inside the door in order to get done as quickly as possible. Once it was all inside, I shut the door and bounced on my toes for a few minutes, trying to warm up.

When my blood was pumping, rather than frozen in my veins, I stacked all the logs in a corner before taking off my coat and hanging it back up.

Cammie walked back into the room carrying a box of emergency supplies. There were flashlights, as well as a couple of lanterns, so she’d set one in the dining area, and one on an end table in the living room. Just until I got the fire going, so we didn’t waste battery power.

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