Page 13 of Enraged

No taking orders for now. Finance fgucked bestie. Love yall

Oh my god, how the fuck do I delete that?

“Lena, you can’t post that,” I lectured as I pressed delete. “Everyone will know anyways, and no one will be expecting you to take orders right now.”

She stomped over to the back door and slid it open. The blast of cold air hit me like a knife. She shivered as she stood in the doorway, staring out into the dark mountains. Spying the tuxedo jacket I had long abandoned over the back of the couch,I grabbed it and stumbled across the room to drape it across her shoulders.

You’d be warmer if you’d take off this goddamn dress, Lena Loo.

I stood behind her to make sure she didn’t fall. I was definitely feeling the side effects of all the whiskey we had wiped away and I have about a hundred pounds and six inches on her so there’s no way she wasn’t feeling it, too.

From the couch, her phone wailed, the sound too aggressive to be a text. Remembering that it had made the same sound a few minutes ago, I decided to check it out.

NWS Columbia has issued a Winter Storm Warning for your area. Heavy snow accumulation expected. 6-8 inches. Threats include black ice, dangerous travel, and power outages.

“Well, that’s fuckin’ terrific,” I muttered.

Lena spun around. “What?”

I held out her phone as if she could read the small print from three feet away.

“I didn’t bring my binoculars, Dak. Just fuckin’ read it,” she commanded, her southern accent even thicker from exasperation.

“Basically, we are likely gonna be stuck here.”

She didn’t bat an eye.

“We are under a winter storm warning and they’re saying there will be black ice and up to eight inches of snow,” I continued.

Still no reaction.

“Lena? Snow. Ice. Eight inches.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving anyways,” she pointed out.

Fair point.

“That’s true.” I tossed her phone back on the sofa.

“Besides, way less than eight inches fucked my world up today so I wouldn’t mind seeing what a few more inches can do.”

It may have been her accent, it may have been the booze, but whatever it was made my cock stir beneath my tuxedo pants.

Jolene

I realized what I’d said after I’d already said it. Honestly, this is far too common with me. I don’t think before I speak and then I’m as shocked as everyone else about what comes out of my mouth.

“What I mean is –”

He laughed. “You’re fine, Lena.”

Are you laughing at me?

“Don’t laugh at me.”

Pressing his lips together, he did his best to hold back.

He stood and walked towards me, revealing more of himself that was refusing to be held back.

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