Page 49 of Gin & Sin

“I bet.”

“Should we see if the forecast was right?”

“Sure.” I climb out of bed and cross the room to peek through the drapes. What I see makes my jaw drop. “Uh, Stewart?”

“Yeah? Something wrong?”

“Not wrong, just…”

He joins me, leaning against my arm as he peers outside. “Whoa.”

There’s nothing before us except a thick blanket of snow, not even the outlines of the shrubs or fence that line our backyard. The only things visible are the taller trees.

“How many feet do you think it is?” Stewart asks.

“A shit ton.” I turn to him, pulling him closer. “I think we’re gonna be here for a while. If I remember correctly, all the resources go to New Onyx first.”

He nods. “True. After the blizzard we had a few years ago, it took the town four days to be operational again.”

“Four days, huh?”

He smiles. “Yep, and it wasn’t nearly this much snow.”

“Whatever will we do to amuse ourselves for that long?”

“I can think of a few things.”

“Want to tell me some of them?”

He immediately blushes but his eyes heat at the same time. “I want to suck you until you come in my mouth.”

His directness startles me, but in a damn good way. My cock swells, jutting from my naked hips. “Mm-hmm. What else?”

“I want to eat your ass the way you ate mine.”

“Fuck, babe.” Sliding my hand down his hip, I train my eyes on his growing erection.

“Then I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk right. I want to feel it for days.”

“You’re so fucking sexy when you talk like that.” I reach down to barely stroke him, lightly dragging my fingers across his balls and shaft as he shudders. “Taking you apart is such a treat for me.”

Stewart grabs my hand, placing it flat on his belly. “I wish you could feel the flutters you cause. I want you to know what you do to me.”

“I know.” Gripping his wrist, I pull him closer again. “Can I tell you something I want?”

“Of course.”

My thoughts are a flurry of words and desires that feel both comfortable and foreign. Yeah, I want to fuck him senseless and draw a constant parade of moans from his pretty lips, but there’s something else that takes me aback more than a little.

“Kit?”

Do I say it? Can I? What if he thinks it’s weird or intrusive or clingy? I nearly choke on that thought. Me? Clingy? The fuck?

“Is something wrong?” Stewart asks, concern reflecting in his eyes.

“No. Not even a little.” Gazing into his eyes, I find that glimmer of curiosity and vulnerability that’s becoming a siren song for me. Fuck it. “I want to talk.”

A deep crease furrows his brow. “Talk? Is something… not the way you want it?”

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