Page 51 of Snowy Secrets

"There. That should hold you over," she says, sitting back on her boots. She wipes her hands clean and begins rummaging in her bag again. A thermos and wrapped sandwiches surface. "Hungry?"

I blink, not expecting this turn of events. "You brought sandwiches and coffee with you?"

"Always be prepared," she replies with a wink, handing me a sandwich and pouring coffee into a mug. She reaches into her bottomless bag once more and brings out napkins, a little bottle of water, and ketchup. I scowl at the plastic packet. "None of that," I tell her. "No red swill on my sandwich."

Bella unwraps a sandwich and hands it to me before slathering ketchup on her own. I roll my eyes to the very back of my head as she sticks out her tongue before taking a bite.

I take a bite of the sandwich. Of course it's delicious. It has bacon. "Where were you all these years?" I sigh as the food and coffee work wonders on me. "You're full of surprises, Bella."

"I try to keep things interesting," she says through a mouthful. "Sure about the ketchup?"

"God, yes."

As we sit there, eating sandwiches and sipping coffee, the pain in my leg somehow manages to dissolve into something much more tolerable. "Thanks for this," I say, breaking the comfortable silence. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

Bella shrugs, but her eyes soften. "Just doing what anyone would do. Besides, it's nice to have company, even if you are a bit grumpy when injured."

I chuckle and dust some crumbs from my beard. "I'll try to be more pleasant next time I get impaled by a tree."

She smiles, and for a moment, everything feels right. The conversation takes another route and flows easily. Bella opens up about her life as a single mother, her voice filled with a tender love for her daughter. I know about Ginny. I've seen pictures of her at Jonathan's house.

Everything is going well until I put my foot in my mouth. "How about the dad?" I ask, downing the remaining coffee witha hasty gulp. I have a good idea who the dad is, but damn, this was not the right time or place for this question. The change in Bella is instantaneous. Her shoulders stiffen, her smile vanishes, and a shadow falls over her eyes. "He's not…" she says, her voice clipped and cold. "He's not in the picture."

I regret my question immediately.

Before I can apologize, Bella breaks the silence. "How bad is the injury, Marcus? Will it…will it keep us from having sex?"

The question catches me off guard. But a flicker dances in Bella's eyes, and I am but a man facing a goddess.

"Well," I reply wryly, leaning back in my chair, "that depends on how adventurous you're feeling."

23

BELLA

Marcus is spread out on that chair, which looks sturdy enough to hold both of our weight and leave his leg immobile. My hands find his knees as I crawl between them. His eyes are dark with need, a desire so deep and predatory that I feel like prey.

He might know that this is, in part, a distraction from my personal life, the one waiting for me when I leave here, but I can't let that small bit of reality pierce the bubble I've formed here. Not yet. Not until I can think straight for long enough to figure it all out.

I run my hands up his thighs slowly, teasing as his big paw lifts to caress my jaw and the sensitive skin behind my ear, down my throat. Then, he's tugging at the flannel I borrowed to get out here quickly. A button falls from its place, letting the slight chill in the air breach the flannel’s protection.

His rough fingers trace my collarbones and the pale skin above my breasts. Not a man of many words, his contemplative gaze does a lot of the speaking for him. Marcus wants to pick me open, expose me in ways I'm not prepared for.

I want the same with him becauseI knowthere's parts of his past we haven't talked about.

Pulling open the fly of his pants, I palm his hardening length through his boxers. His gaze heats as I slowly stroke him. Slow can be just as much of a distraction as fast and hard, and we will certainly get there. Teasing, I pull him out and bring him close enough to my mouth that he can feel my hot breath before I retreat.

His tongue peeks out, swiping across his bottom lip as he watches me, hands in fists on his legs. I mimic his movement, poking my tongue out to flick across the tip of his cock. His nostrils flare, hands clench and relax. Those big fingers smooth out across his denim-clad thighs.

I smooth my tongue out to cup his head, drawing lazy circles around the bundle of nerves. It makes his breath come quicker. I smile up at Marcus, and beyond the heat and yearning I see in him, something more lies there. It wiggles into my heart faster than it should.

Distracting myself, I pull his head into my mouth and suck hard, earning a groan. Suckling, pressing lightly with my teeth, lashing with my tongue, I pump him into my mouth. His eyes fall to half-mast, but they don't disconnect with mine. He keeps me trapped there as I work him until his hands curl back into fists.

Then, I stop teasing and start playing in earnest, working him down my throat, shifting until I find the right angle to take every inch of him.

The rough moan Marcus lets loose has moisture gathering in my center. I want him, want this. Maybe more than I'm afraid of having it.

When my eyes close to give in to taking him completely, Marcus threads his meaty fingers through my hair. He doesn't take control, just squeezes a little and relaxes to let me know he's enjoying it.

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