Page 47 of Snowbound with the Santas

“We need to look for broken bulbs or any lights not working, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” I mock salute Frankie and cast my eyes down.

“Whatever.” Archer lines up all of the plugs with the extension cord and shoves them into place. “Ready?”

Frankie and I nod.

Archer shoves the plug into the socket, and the rows of lights burst to life in an array of twinkling colors. If ever there were a moment to feel festive, this is it.

“Fuck,” Frankie grumbles. “These amber ones are really having a rave.”

Indeed, the amber teardrop lights were struggling to hold their light, flickering in and out.

Suddenly, as Archer stands to check his own lights, there’s a distant thunk and the entire cabin plunges into darkness. A short, sharp scream of fright rises up from deeper in as the darkness scares Rayne.

“Fuck,” comes Frankie’s voice through the dark, followed by the sound of a slap. “Ow!”

“Idiot,” snaps Archer.

“Hey, this wasn’t me,” Frankie snaps. “No way these lights would overload the generator.”

Archer’s about to argue back, I don’t need to see him to know that, but the sudden sound of gale-force winds swirling around the cabin and shaking the windows silences him.

It wasn’t the lights that knocked out the power.

The second storm is well and truly on us.

“If it knocks out the radio again,” Frankie says to my left, “I’m not going back up to fix it.”

17

RAYNE

After embarrassing myself with Archer, I took his advice and had a long, hot shower to wash away the lotion he massaged into my aching muscles and to give me time to think.

I hadn’t expected Archer, of all people, to follow me, or to press so insistently about what was wrong. Out of the three of them, he definitely struck me as the one who wanted to keep me at arm’s length, which is why I thought taunting him about the massage would scare him away.

Instead, he leaned into it and then next thing I knew, I was orgasming from just how good his hands felt against my skin. Sex with Frankie was easy because we were in a confined space with minimal touching, but that massage?

I had nowhere to hide. Archer touched me everywhere, and my body opened up to him in response. It was one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had, and he only worked my muscles.

And then he was sweet about it afterward.

Just like a dream.

That moment replayed over and over in my mind as I showered, and it lingered as I stepped out and wrapped myselfin one of the gigantic, unused fluffy towels. The towel has a faint musty smell, likely from being unused. As I perch on the edge of the bath and carefully drag a disposable razor up my leg, I try—and fail—not to picture what each of them would look like in a towel.

They are all so swift and efficient that I wouldn’t be surprised if they all just toweled themselves down within thirty seconds and then went about their day.

Then, without warning, the entire bathroom plunges into darkness and my gliding razor slips enough to spark hot pain across my shin. That, plus the sudden absolute darkness, draws a squeal of fright from my throat, and I freeze.

The power’s out?

They never told me what to do if the power went out. I’ve been aware of how dark it gets outside, but being inside without the lights, the darkness is suddenly suffocating.

“Hello?” I call out, but there’s no answer.

Shit.

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